Newspaper Page Text
6
DAWN,
On the nptnrn<*<l fare of the quivering tea
Shun mere-! the dawn;
White ban of light toie up in the kv,
Ami the night was gone.
Was gone—with the fear of a f*)!#we<l fawn,
Anu with hnrrviag feet.
To on<l in the (hade* of the foreot glade*
A safe retreat.
The legion* of *tar* that had watched wearily.
Crept out of tight;
t'proee the helm of the advancing Day,
And faat fled the Night.
A fre*fc wind blew from the edge of the tea.
from the eaten of the Kaat.
That i.:**hed the tide on the feet of the land.
And the light lucre aw l.
And the glittering lip* of a myriad spear*
Shot up from the tua.
With guidon* and penuaut* anl lance* of
light—
A rplendor to see.
A hundred flag* were upheld tn the ky,
And unfolded there— . . .
Banner* of light that glimmered and gleamed
In the morning air.
Tneu from the glowing Cast uprose
The kingly Sun, .
And the sea grew gold as a stool for hi* feet
To rest upon. —Tkt MmnAattam.
Some New American Stories
Pphluiimll)) a Combination of Xew
papers, ami PuMMuml Serially,
in Parts. Every Sunday.
11.
Copyright, ISM. by Bret Han*. AU right*
r—erred ■
X BLUE GRASS PENELOPE.
By Bbet Haktk.
PART SECOND.
CHATTEK HI.
Mr. Patterson did not inform hi* wife
of the lawyer'* personal threat to himself.
But he managed, after Poindexter had
left, to make her conscious that Mrs.
Tucker might be a power to be placated
and feared. “You've shot off jour mouth
at her,” he said, argumentatively, and
whether you've hit the mark or not you've
had vour* say. Ef you think it’s worth
a possible s.'>.<**> and interest to keep on,
heave ahead. Ef you rather have the
chance of getting the rest in cash,
you'll let up on her.” “You don't
suppose,” returned Mrs. Patterson
contemptuously. “that she's got
anything but what that man of her’s—
—Poindexter—let's her have!” “The
Sheriff says.” retorted Patterson surlily,
“that she's notified him that she claims
the rancho as a gift from her husband
three years ago—and she's in possession
now. and was so when the execution was
out. It don't make no matter," he added,
with gloomy philosophy, “who’s got a
full hand as long as >rc ain't got the
cards to chip in. I wouldn’t hev minded
it." he continued meditatively, "et Spence
Tucker had dropped a hint to me afore he
put but." "And 1 suppose,” said Mrs.
Patterson angrily, “you'd have put out
too?” "I reckou." said Patterson, simply.
Twice or thrice during the evening he
referred, more or less directly, to this lack
of confidence shown by his late debtor and
employer, and seemed to feel it more
keeulv than the loss of property. He con
fided his sentiments quite openly to the
Sheriff in possession, over the whisky ana
euchre with which these gentlemen
avoided the difficulties ot their delicate
relations. He brooded over it as he handed
the keys of the shop to the Sheriff when
they parted for the night, and was still
thinking of it when the house was closed,
everybody gone to bed, and he was fetch
ing a fresh jug of water from the well.
The moon was at times obscured by flying
clouds—the araaf-CcK t iers of the regular
evening shower. He was stooping over
the well, when he sprang suddenly to his
feet again. “Who's there TANARUS” he demanded
sharply.
“Hush!” said a voice, so low and faint
it might have been a whisper of the wind
in the palisades of the corral. But, in
distinct as it was. it was the voice ot the
man he w-as thinking of as far away, and
it sent a thrill of alternate awe and pleas
ure through his pulses.
He glanced quickly around. The moon
•was hidden by a passing cloud, and only '
the faint outlines of the house he had just ;
quitted were visible. “Is that you,
‘‘pence?’* he said, tremulously.
-Yes." replied the voice, and a figure i
dimly emerged from the corner of the '
corral.
“Lay low. lay low—for God's sake." |
said Patterson, hurriedly throwing bim
selt upon the apparition. “The Sheriff
and his poM< are in there.”
-But 1 must speak to you g moment,"
said the figure.
“Wait," said Patterson, glancing to
ward the building. Its blank, shutterless
windows revealed no inner light —a pro
found ’ silence encompassed if. “Come
quick.” he whispered. Letting his grasp
slip down to the unresisting hand ot the
stranger, he half dragged, half led him. ;
brushing against the wall, into the open
door of the deserted barroom he had just ;
quitted, looked the inner door, poured a
glass of whisky from a decanter, gave it
to him. and then watch him drain it at a
single draught. The moon came out, and,
falling through tb“ bare yfiutbjwg full j
upouihe lfisnf** ' * "
_ .„ce, revealed the t
artistic but slightlv dishevelled curls and
moustache of the fugitive, Spencer Tucker. ]
Whatever may have been the real Influ
ence of this unfortunate man upon his |
fellows, it seemed to find expression in a
singular unanimity of criticism. Patter
son looked at him with a half-dismal, ;
half-welcoming smile.
••Well, you are a h—ll of a fellow, ain’t
you r !
Spencer Tucker passed his hand through
his hair and lifted it from his forehead, with
a gesture at once emotional and theatri
cal. “I am a man with a price on me?” ,
he saitL bitterly, “Give me up to the
Sheriff, and you’ll get five thousand dol
lars. Help me, and you'll get nothing.
That's my d—d luck, and yours, too, I
suppose.”
••I reckon you're right there." said Pat
terson gloomily. "But I thought you got
clean awav. Went off iu a ship——"
-Went off in a boat to a ship," inter
rupted Tucker savagely; “went off to a
ship that had all my things on board—
everTthiuc. The crushed boat capsized
in a squall iust off the heads. The ship,
d—n her, sailed away, the men thinking
I was drowned, likely, and that they’d
make a good thing off my goods—l
reckon.”
-But the girl, Inez, who was with you,
didn't she make a row ?”
‘•Quien sabt,” returned Tueker. with a
reckless laugh, “Well, 1 hung on like
grim death to that l-oafs keel until one of
ttose Chinese fishermen, in a “dug out,’
hauled me in opposite Saaoelito. 1
chartered him and his dug out to bring
me down here.”
“Whv here!” asked Patterson, with a
certain ostentatious caution that ill con
cealed his pensive satisfaction.
••You may well ask," returned Tucker,
with an equal ostentation of bitterness,
as he slightlv waved his companion away.
••But I reckoned 1 could trust a white
man that I'd been kind to, and who
wouldn't go back on me. No, no, let me
ro? Hand me over to the Sheriff:”
Patterson had suddenly grasped both
the hands of the picturesque scamp be
lore him, with an affection that for an in
stant almost shamed the man who had
ruined him. But Tucker's egotism whis
pered that this affection was only a re
cognition of his own superiority, and telt
flattered. He was beginning to believe
that he was really the injured - party.
• What I * ore and what I have had is
Tours. Spence,’* returned Patterson, with
a sad and simple directness that made
anv further discussion a gratuitous in
sult. “I only wanted to know what you
reckoned to do here.”
••I want to get over across the coast
range to Monterey,” said Tucker. "Once
there, one of tnose coasting schooners
will bring me down to Acapulco, where
the ship will put in."
Patterson remained silent for a mo
ment. "There's a mustang in the corral
tou can take—leastways. I shan't know
that it's gone—until to-morrow afternoon.
In an hour from now,” be added. looking
from the window, -these clouds will settle
down to business. It will rain; there will
be light enough for vou to find your way
bT the regular trail over the mountain: but
not enough for any one to know you. If
tou can't push through to-night you can lie
OTer at the Posada on the summit. Them
Greasers that keep it won't know you. and
if thev did, tbev won’t go back on you.
And if theT did" go back on you nobodjr
would believe them. It’s mighty curi
ous,' he added, with gloomy philosophy,
but I reckon it's the reason why Provi
dence allows this kind of cattle to live
among white men and others made in His
image. Take a piece of pie, won’t you ?' |
he continued, abandoning this abstract
reflection and producing half a flat pump
kin pie from the bar. Spencer Tucker ,
grasped the pie with one hand and his
.friend'* lingers with the other, and 1
for a few moments was silent
from the hurried deglutition of viand
and sentiment. “Von’re a white
man, Patterson, any way,” he re
sumed. “I’ll take your horse, and put it
down in our account, at your own figure.
As soon as this cursed thing is blown
over. I’ll be back here and see you through,
vou bet. I don’t desert my friends, how
ever rough things go with me.”
“I see you don't, returned Patterson,
with an unconscious and serious simplici
ty that had the effect of the most exquis
ite ironv. “I was only just saying
to the Sheriff that if there was anything
1 could have done for you, you wouldn’t
have cut away without letting me know."
Tucker glanced uneasily at Patterson,
who continued, “le ain’t wanting any
thing else?” Then observing that his
tonuer patron was roughly but newly
clothed, and betraved no trace of his last
< scapade. he addeil, "I see you’ve got a
fresh harness.”
“That and and Chinaman bought me these
at the landing; they’re not much in style
or fit,’’ he continued, trying to get a moon
light view of himself in the mirror behind
the bar. “but that don’t matter here.” He
filled another glass of spirits, jauntily
settled himself back in bis chair, and
added, “1 don’t suppose there are any
girls around anyway.”
“’Cept your wife: she was down here
this afternoon,” said Patterson medita
tively.
>lr. Tucker paused with the pie in his
hand. “Ah, yes!” He essayed a reckless
laugh, but that evident simulation failed
before Patterson's melancholy. With an
assumption of failing in with his friend's
manner, rather than trom any personal
anxiety, be continued. “Well?”
“That man Poindexter was down here
with her. Put her in the hacienda to hold
possession afore the news came out.”
“Impossible!" said Tucker, rising has
tily. “It don’t belong—that is ’’ he
hesitated.
“Yer thinking the creditors ’ll get it,
mebbe,” returned Patterson, gaziug at
the floor. “Mot as loug as she’s iu it; no,
sir! Whether it’s really hers, or she's
only keeping house for Poindexter, she’s a
fixture, you bet. They’re a team when
they pull together, they are!”
The smile slowly faded from Tucker’s
face, that now looked quite rigid in the
moonlight. He put dowu his glass aud
walked to the window as Patterson
gloomily continued, “But that’s nothing
to you. You’ve got ahead of ’em both,
and hud your revenge by going oft with
the gal. That’s what I'said all along.
When folks—specially women folks—
wondered how you could leave a woman
like your wife, ami gooff with a scalliwag
like that gal. J 1 allers said they’d find out
| there was a reason. And when vour wife
i came flaunting down here with Poimlex
j ter before she’d <{Qite got quit of you, l
I reckon (bey began to see the whole little
game. No", sir! I knew it wasu't on ae
f count of the gal? Wny, when you came
here to-night and told me quite nat’ral
like ami easy how she went off in the ship,
and then calmly ate your pie aud drank
I your whisky after it,' I knew you didn’t
I care tor her. There’s mv hand, Spence;
you’re a trump, even if you are a little
loouev, eh? Why, what’s up?”
Shallow and setish as Tucker was, Pat
terson's words seemed like a revelation
that shocked him as profoundly as it
might have shoeke:. a nobler nature. The
simple vanity and selfishness that made
him unable to conceive any higher rea
son for his wife's loyalty than his own j
! personal popularity ami success, now
! that he no longer possessed that eclat,
made him equally capable of the lowest
suspicions. He was a dishonored fugitive,
broken in fortune and reputation—why
should she not desert him? He hai! been
unfaithful to her from wildness, froh?
caprice, from the effect of those
fascinating qualities: it seemed to
him natural that she should be
disloyal from more deliberate mo
tives. and be hugged himself with
that belief. Yet there was enough doubt,
enough of haunting suspicion that he had
lost or alienated a powerful affection to
make him thoroughly miserable. He re
turned his friend's grasp convulsively and
buried his face upon his shoulder. ’ BStt
he was not above feeling a certain exul
tation in the effect Of his misery upon the
dog-like, unreasoning affection'of Patter
son, nor could he entirely refrain from
slightly posing his affliction before that
sympathetic but melancholy man. Sud
denly he raised his head, drew back, and
thrust his hand into pis bosom with a
theatrical gesture/
"What’s to keep me from killing Poin
dexter iu hi* tracks?” he said wildly.
“Nothen’ but his shooting first",’’ re
turned Patterson, with dismal practl
: cality. “He’s mighty quick, like all them
army men. It’s about even. I reckon,
thattie don’t get im first," he added in an
: ominous voice.
1 “No!” returned Tucker, grasping his
hand again. “This is not your aft'air.
Patterson; leave him to me when 1 come
back.”
••If he ever gets the drop on me, I reck- ;
on he won’t wait." continued Patterson lu
gubriously. "He seems to object to my '
passin’ criticism on your wile, as if she ]
was a queen or an angel.’’
The blood came to Spencer’s cheek, and
he turned uneasily to the window. “It's
dark enough now for a start," he said
hurriedly, -and if I could get across the
mountain without lying over at the sum- ;
mit, it would be a day gained.”
Patterson arose without a word, filled a <
flask of spirits, handed it to his friend, and
silently led the way through the slowly
falling"rain and the now settled d-’ 1
nrk - T ” w ucoo. j
iue mustang was quickly secured and
saddled; a heavy poncho afforded Tucker
a disguise as well as a protection from j
the rain. With a few hurried, discon- j
nected words, and an abstracted air, he I
once more shook his friend's hand and
issued cautiously from the eorral. When
out of earshot from the house, he put i
spurs to the mustang, and dashed into a
gallop.
To intersect the mountain road he was
obliged to traverse part of the highwav
his wife had walked that afternoon, ami
to pass within a mile of the casa where j
she was. Long before he reached that i
point his eves were straining the dark- j
ness in that direction lor some indication
of the house which was to him familiar.
Becoming now accustomed to the even
i obscurity, less trying to the vision than
the alternate light and shadow ol cloud or
the full glare of the moonlight, he fancied
he could distinguish its low walls over
the monotonous level. One of those im
pulses which had so often taken the place
of resolution in his character, suddenly
possessed him to diverge from his
course and approach the house. Why.
he could not have explained. It was '
not from any feeling of jealous sus
picion or contemplated revenge—that had
passed with the presence of Patterson; it
was uot front any vague, lingering senti
ment for the woman he had wronged—he
would have shrunk from meeting her at
that moment. But it was full of these and
more possibilities bv which he might or
might not be guided, anil was at least a
movement toward some v ague end, and a
distraction from certain thoughts he
dared not entertain and could not entire
, ly dismiss. Inconceivable and inexplica
ble to human reason, it might have been
acceptable to the Divine omniscience for
its predestined result.
He left the road at a point where the
marsh encroached upon the meadow, fa
miliar to him already as near the spot
where he had debarked from the China
man'S boat the day before. He remem
bered that the walis of the lutcienda were
distinctly visible from the tales where he
had hidden all day, and he now knew
that the figures he had observed near the
, building, whieh had deterred his first at
tempts at landing, must have been his
wife and his friend. He knew that along
j tongue of the slough filled by the rising
tide followed the marsh, and lay between
him and the kaciemda. The sinking of
his horse’s hoof in the spongy soil deter
j mined its proximity, aud he made a i te~
tour to the right to avoid it.
In doing so a light sud
denly rose' above the distant horizon
ahead of him. trembling faintly, and then
burned with a steady lustre. It was a
light at the hadeteda. Guiding his horse
half abstractedly in this direction his
progress was presently checked by the
splashing of the animal's hoofs in the
water. But the turf below was firm, and
a salt drop that had spattered to his lips
told him that it was only the encroaching
of the tide in the meadow. With his eves
on the tight, he again urged his horse for
ward. The rain lulled, the clouds began
to break, the landscape alternately
lightened and grew dark; the out
lines of the crumbling hacienda
walls that enshrined the light grew
more visible. A strange and dreamy
resemblance to tbe long blue grass plain
, before his wife's paternal house, as seen
1 bv him during his evening ndes to court
ship. pressed itself upon him. He remem
bered, too. that she used to put a light in
the window to indicate her presence.
Following this retrospect, the moon came
boldlv out, sparkled upon the overflow of ,
silver at his feet, seemed to show the dark,
opaque meadow beyond for a moment, j
and then disappeared. It was dark now,
but the lesser earthly star still shone be
fore him as a guide, and pushing toward f
U. hevpassed into the all-embracing
shadow.
THE SAVANNAH MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, JULY 6, 1884.
CHAPTER IV.
As Mrs. Tucker, erect, white and rigid,
drove away from the tienda, it seemed to
her to sink again into the monotonous
plain, with all its horrible realities. Ex
cept that there was now anew and
heart-breaking significance to the soli
tude and loneliness of the land
scape, all that bad passed might have
been a dream. But as the blood came
back to her cheek, and little by little her
tingling consciousness returned, it seemed
as if her life had been the dream, and this
last scene the awakening reality. With
eves smarting with the moisture of shame,
the scarlet blood at times dyeing her very
neck and temples, she muffled her low
ered crest in her shawl and bent over the
reins. Bit by bit she recalled, in Poin
dexter's mysterious caution and strange
allusions, the corroboration of her hus
band's shame and her own disgrace.
This was why she was brought hither—
the deserted "wife, the abandoned confed
erate! The mocking glitter of the con
cave vault above her scoured bv the in
cessant wind, the cold stare of the shin
ing pools beyond, the hard outlines of the
coast range,"and the jarring accompani
ment of her horse’s hoofs and rattling
buggy wheels, alternately goaded and dis
tracted her. She found herself repeating
‘No! no! no!’ with the dogged reiteration
of fever. She scarcely knew when or how
she reached the hacienda. She was only
conscious that she entered the patio; the
dusty solitude that had before tilled her
with unrest now came to her like balm.
A benumbing peace seemed to fall from
the crumbling walls—the peace of utter
seclusion, isolation, oblivion, death! Nev
ertheless, an hour later, when of
spurs and bridle were again heard in the
road, she started to her feet with bent
brows and a kindling eye, anil confronted
Capt. Poindexter in the corridor.
“1 would not have intruded upon you so
soon again,” he said gravely, “but I
thought I might perhaps spare you a repe
tition ot the kiene of this morning. Hear
me out, please," he added, with a gentle,
half-deprecating gesture, as she lifted the
beautiful scorn of her eyes to his. “I
have just heard that vour neighbor, Don
Jose sautierra of Los liatos, is on his way
to this house. He onee claimed this laud
aud hated your husband, who bought of
the rival claimant, whose grant was con
firmed. I tell you this," he added, slight
lv flushing as Mrs. Tucker turned impa
tiently away, “onlv to show you that
legally he has no rights, aud you need not
see him unless you choose. I could not
stop his coming without perhaps doing
you more harm than good; but when he
iloes come, my presence under this roof as
your legal counsel will enable you to re
fer him' to me." He stopped. She was
pacing the corridor with snort, impatient
steps, her arms dropped and her bauds
clasped rigidly before her. “Have I your
permission to stay ?’’
She suddenly stopped tn her walk, ap
proached him'rapidly, and, fixing her
eyes on his, said:
“l)o 1 know all now—everything?”
He could only reply that" she had not
yet told him what she had heard.
“Well,” she said, scornfully, “that my
husband has been cruelly imposed upon—
imposed upon by some wretched woman,
who has made him sacrifice his propertv,
his friends, his honor—eveiything but
me.”
“Everythingbut whom?” gasped Poin
dexter.
“But me!”
Poindexter gazed at the skv. the air,
the deserted corridor, the stones of the
patio itself, and then at the inexplicable
woman before him. Then he said gravely,
“I think you know everything.”
“Then if my husband has left me all he
could—this property,” she went on rap
idly twisting her handkerchief between
her ulcers, “I can do with it what I like,
can’t I?”
"You certainly can."
“Then sell it," she said, with passion
ate vehemence. “Sell it—all! everything!
And sell these." She darted into her bed
room, and returned with the diamond
rings she had torn from her fingers and
ears when she had entered the house.
“Sell them for anything they’ll bring—
onlv sell them at once."
“But for what?" asked Foindexter,with
demure lips but twinkling eyes.
“To pay the debts that this—this—
woman has led him into; to return the
money she has stolen!" she went on
rapidly, “to keep him from sharing her
iqfSSIJi Can't you understand?”
“But, my dear madam.” began Poin
dexter, “even if this could be done ”
“Don’t tell me ’if it could’—it 'must be
done. Do you think I could sleep under
this roof, propped up by the titulars of
that ruined tienda? Do "you think I could
wear those diamonds again, while that
termagant shop woman “can say that her
money bought them? No. If you are my
husband’s friend, you will do this —for—
for—his sake.” She stopped, locked and
interlocked her cold lingers before her, ,
and said hesitatingly anil mechanically,
“You meant well. Capt. Poindexter, in
bringing me here, 1 know! Y'ou must not
think that I blame you tor it—or for the 1
miserable result of it that you have just
witnessed. But if I have gained anything
by it. for God’s sake let me reap it quick
ly, that l may give it to these people and
go! I have a friend who can aid me to get
to my husband or to my home in Ken
tucky, where Spencer will yet find me. I
know. I want nothing "more.” She
stopped again. With another woman the
pause would have been one ot tears. But
she kept her head above the flood that
filled her heart, and the clear eves fixed i
Poindexter, albeit pained,’ wyry ui>-_
dimmed.
“But this would require time," said
Poindexter, with a smile of compassionate
explanation; “you could not sell now.
nobodv would buy. You are safe to hold
this property while in actual possession,
but vou are not strong enough to guaran
tee it to another. There may still be liti
gation; your husband has other creditors
than these people you have talked with.
But while nobody" could oust you—the
wife who would have the sympathies of
Judge and jury—it might be a different 1
case with any one who derived title from
you. Anv purchaser would know tha’
vou could not sell, or, if you did, it would
be at a ridiculous sacrifice.”
She listened to him abstractedly, walked
to the end of the corridor, returned, aud,
without looking up, said:
“I suppose you know her?"
“I beg your pardon ?’’
“This woman. You have seen her?"
“Never, to my knowledge.”
“And you are his friend? That’s
strange.”" She raised her eyes to his.
“Well,” she continued, impatiently, “who
is she? and what is she? You know that
surelv?"
“I know no more of her than what 1
have said," said Poindexter. "She is a
notorious woman."
Tne swift color came to Mrs. Tucker’s
face, as if the epithet had been applied to
herself. “I suppose,” she said, in a dry
voice, as if she were asking a business
question, but with an eye that showed
her rising anger—“l suppose there Is
some law dv which creatures of this kind
can be followed and brought to justice
some law that would keep innocent peo
ple from suffering tor their crimes?"
“I am afraid," said Poindexter, “that
arresting her would hardly help these
people over in the tienda.”
“1 am not speakiugof them." responded
Mrs. Tucker, with a'sudden sublime con
tempt for the people whose cause she had
espoused: “I am talking of my husband."
Poindexter bit his lip. “1 ou’d hardly
think ot bringing back the strongest wit
ness against nim,” he said, bluntly.
Mrs.' Tucker dropped her eyes and was
silent. A sudden shame suffused Poin
dexter's cheek; he felt as if he had struck
that woman a blow. “I beg your pardon,"
he said, hastily. “I am talking tike a law
ver to a lawyer." He would have taken
any other woman by the hand in the hon
est" fullness of his apology, but something
restrained him here. Heo’uly looked down
gently on her lowered lashes, and repeated
his question if he should remain during
the coming interview with Don Jose. "I
must beg you to determine quickly," he
added, “for I already hear him entering
the gate."
“Stay," said Mrs. Tucker, as the ring
ing of’ spurs and clatter of hoofs came
from the corral. “One moment." She
looked up suddenly and said. “How long
had he known her?" But before he could
replv there was a step in the doorway,
and the figure of Don Jose S antierr a
emerged from the archway.
He was $ man slightly past middle age.
lair and well shaven, wearing a black
broadcloth scrape, the deeply embroidered
opening of which formed a collar of silver
ravs around his neck, while a row ot sil
ver buttons down the side seams ot his
riding trousers, and silver spurs com
pleted his singular equipment. Mrs.
Tucker’s swift feminine glance took
in these details as well as
the deep salutation, more formal
than the exuberant frontier politeness
she was accustomed to, with which he
greeted her. It was enough to arrest her
first impulse to retreat. She hesitated
and stopped as Poindexter stepped tor
ward. partly interposing between them,
acknowledging Don Jose’s distant recog
nition of himself with an ironical acces
sion of his usual humorous tolerance.
The Spaniard did not seem to notice it,
but remained gravely silent before Mrs.
Tucker, gazing at her with an expres
sion of intent and unconscious absorption. ;
“You are quite right, Don Jose,” said ;
Poindexter, with ironical concern, “it is ;
Mrs. Tucker. Your eyes do not deceive
you. She will be glad to do the honors of ]
her house,” he continued, with a Simula- ,
tlon of appealing to her, “unless you visit !
her on business, which I need not say 1 \
shall be onlv too happy to attend you, as
before ?’
Don Jose, with a slight lifting of the
eye-brows, allowed himself to become
conscious of the lawyer's meaning. “It
is not of business that I come to kiss the
Senora’s hand to-day,” he replied, with a
melancholy softness; “it is as a neighbor,
to put myself at her disposition. Ah!
what have we here for a lady ?” he con
tinued, raising his eyes in deprecation of
the surroundings: a house of nothing, a
place of winds and dry bones, without re
freshments, or satisfaction, or delicacy.
The Senora will not refuse to make us
proud this dav to send her of that whieh
we have in our poor home at Los Gatos, to
make her more complete. Of what shall
it be ? Let her make choice. Or if she
would commemorate this day by accept
ing of our hospitality at Los Gatos, until
she shall arrange herself the more to re
ceive us here, we shall have too much
honor.”
“The Senora wbuld only find It the
more difficult to return to this humble
roof again after once leaving it for Don
Jose’s hospitality," said Poindexter with
a demure glance at Mrs. Tucker. But the
Innuendo seemed to lapse equally uu
heeded by his fair client and the stranger.
Raising her eyes with a certain timid
dignity which Don Jose's presence seemed
to hai e called out. she addressed herself
to him.
“You are kind aud considerate.
Mister -Santierra. and 1 thank you. I
know that my husband”—she let the clear
beauty of her translucent eyes rest full on
both men—“would thank you too. But I
shall not be hero long enough to accept
your kindness in this house or in your
own. I have but one desire aud object
now. It is to dispose of this property—
and indeed all l possess—to pay the debt
of my husband. It is in your power,
perhaps, to help me. 1 am told that
you wish to possess Los Cuervos,” she
went on, equally oblivious of the con
sciousness that appeared in Don Jose’s
face, and a humorous perplexity on the
brow of Poindexter. “It you can arrange
it with Mr. Poindexter, you will find me a
liberal vender. That much vou ean do,
and I know you will believe 1 shall be
grateful. You can do no more, unless it
be to say to your friends that Mrs. Belle
Tucker remains here only for that pur
pose, and to carry out what she knows to
be the wishes of her husband.” She
paused, bent her pretty crest, dropped a
quaint curtsey to the superior age, the
silver braid and the gentleuiauly bearing
of Don Jose, and, with the passing sun
shine of a smile, disappeared from the
corridor. *
The two men remained siient for a ino-
I ment. Don Jose gazing abstractedly at the
door through which she had vanished, un
til Poindexter, with a return of his toler
ant smile, said, “Y'ou have heard the
views ol Mrs. Tucker. Y’ou know the sit
uation as well as she does."
■•Ah. yes—possibly better.”
Poindexter darted" a quick glance at the
grave, sallow face of Don Jose, but de
| tecting no unusual significance in his
manner, continued, “As you see, she
leaves this matter in my hands. Let us
talk tike business men. ’ Have vou any
idea of purchasing this property?”
“Of purchasing—ah, no.”
Toindexter bent his brows, but quickly
relaxed them with a smile of humorous
forgiveness. “If you have any other idea,
Don Jose, 1 ought to warn you, as Mrs.
Tucker’s lawyer, that she is’in legal pos
session here, aud that nothing hut her
own act cau change that position.”
“Ah—so." . , .
Irritated at the shrug whic'u accom
panied this, Poindexter continued haugh
tily: “If I am to understand, you have
nothing to say ?”
••To say—ah, yes, possibly. But," he
glanced towards "the door of Mrs. Tucker’s
room, -not here." He stopped, appeared
to recall himself, and with an apologetic
smile, and a studied but graceful gesture
ot invitation, he motioned to the gateway,
and said. **YVill you ride?"
“What can the fellow be up to?" mut
tered Poindexter, as with an assentiug
hod he proceeded to remount his horse.
“If he wasn’t an old hidalgo I’d mistrust ;
him. No matter! Here <jQes!"
The Don also remounted his half-broken
mustang: they proceeded in solemn si
lence through'the corral, and side by 6ide
emerged on the open plain. Poindexter
glanced around; no other being was in
sight. It was not until the lonely hacienda
had also sunk behind them that" Don Jose
broke the silence.
"Y'ou said just now we shall speak as
business men. I say no, Don Marco; I
will not. I shall spea'k—we shall speak—
as gentlemen.”
"Go on," said Poindexter, who was be
ginning to be amused.
“I say just now I will not purchase the
rancho "from the Senora. And why? Look
you, Don Marco;’’ he reined in his horse,
thrust his hand under his scrape, and drew
out a folded document: “This is why.”
With a smile Poindexter took the paper
from his hand and opened it. But the
smile faded from his tips as he read. With
blazing eyes he spurred his horse beside
the Spaniard, almost unseating him. and
said sternly, “What does this mean?”
“What “oss fr mean?" repeated Don
Jose, with equally flashing eyes. “I’ll
tell vou. It mean’s that your client, this
man" spencer Tucker, is a Judas—a trai
tor! It means that he gave Los Cuervos
to his mistress a year ago, and that she
sold it to me—to me, you hear—me, Jose
Santierra, the day before she left! It j
means that the coyote ol a Spencer, the
thief, who bought these lands ol a thief,
and gave them to a thief, has tricked you
all. “Look,” he said, rising in his saddle,
holding the paper tike a baton. and de
fining with a sweep of his arm the wnoie
level plain, “all these lands were once
mine—they are mine again to-day. Do I
want to purchase Los Cuervos ? you ask, I
for vou will speak of the Business. 'Well']
listen. I have purchased Los Cuervos, j
and here is the deed."
••But it has never been recorded." said
Poindexter, with a carelessness he was
far from feeling.
“Of a veritv, no. Do vou wish that I
should record it?" asked Don Jose, with
a return of his simple gravity.
Poindexter bit his tip. “Y'ou said we
were to talk tike gentlemen," he returned.
"Do vou think you have come into pos
session of tlii* alleged deed like a gentle
man ?"
Don Jose shrugged his shoulders. “I
found it tossed in the lap of a harlot. 1
bought it for a song. Eh—what would
you?"
“Would vou sell it again for a song?"
asked Poindexter.
-Ah! what is this?" said Don Jose, lift
ing his iron-gray brows; “but a moment
ago we would sell everything—for any
money. Now we would buy. Is it so?”
“One moment, Don Jose,” said Poin
dexter, with a baleful tight in his dark
eves. “Do I understand that yon are the
allv ot Sponcer Tucker and his mistress—
that vou intend to turn this doubly be
trayed wife from the only roof she has to
cover her?”
1 -Ah, I comprehend not. Y'ou heard her
sav she wished to go. Perhaps it may please
me to distribute largess to these cattle
yonder; Ido not say ho. More she does
hot ask. But you, Don Marco, ot whom
are you advocate? Y'ou abandon your
I client's mistress ior the it so?”
-What I mavdoyou wilfSlearn here
atter," said Poindexter, who had regained
his composure, suddenly reining up his
I horse. "As our paths seem likely to di
verge. they had better begin now. Good
morning.”
“Patience, my friend, patience! Ah,
blessed St. Anthony, what these Ameri
cans are! Listen. For what you shall
do, Ido not inquire. The question is to
me. what I"—he emphasized the pronoun
by tapping himself on tbe breast —“I, Jose
. Santierra. will do. Well, I snail tell you.
To-dav—nothing. To-morrow—nothing.
For a’week, for a month—nothing. After,
we shall see.”
Poindexter paused thoughtfully. -Will
i you give your word, Don Jose, that you
"will hot press the claim for a month?"
“Truly, on one condition. Observe! 1 do
not ask" vou for an equal promise—that
you will hot take this time to defend your
self.” He shrugged his shoulders. “No!
It is onlv this. You shall promise that
during that time the Senora Tucker shall
remain ignorant of this document,”
Poindexter hesitated a moment. “I
promise," he said at last.
“Good. Adois. Don Marco."
“Adois, Don Jose.”
Tbe Spaniard put spurs to his mustang
and galloped off in the direction of Los
Gatos. The lawyer remained for a mo
ment gazing on his retreating but victo
rious figure. For the first tune the old
look of humorous toleration with which
Mr. Poindexter was in the habit of re
garding all human infirmity gave way to
something tike bitterness. “I might have
guessed it.” be said, with a slight rise of
color. “He’s an old fool; and she —well,
perhaps it’s all the better for her!’’ He
glanced backward almost tenderly is the
direction of Los Cuervos, and then turned
his head toward the embarcadero.
As the afternoon wore on, a creaking,
antiquated ox-cart arrived at Los Cuervos,
bearing several articles of furniture, and
some tasteful ornaments from Los Gatos,
at the same time that a voung Mexican
girl mysteriously appeared in the kitchen, ;
as a temporary assistant of the decrepit
Concha. These were both clearly attribu
table to Don Jose, whose visit was not so
remote but that these delicate atten
tions might have been already projected
before Mrs. Tucker had declined them,
and she could not, without marked dis
courtesy, reject them now. She did hot
wish to seem discourteous; she would
like to have been more civil to this old
gentleman, who still retained the evi
dences of a picturesque and decorous past,
and a repose so different from the life
that was perplexing her. Reflecting that
if he bought the estate these things would
be ready to his band, and with a woman's
instinct recognizing their value in setting
off the house to other purchasers’ eyes,
she took a pleasure in tastefully arrang
ing them, and even found herself specu
lating bow sbe might have enjoyed them
herself had she been able to keep posses
sion of the property. After all, it would
not have been so lonely if refined and
gentle neighbors, like this old man,
would have sympathized with her; she
had an instinctive feeling that, in their
own hopeless decay aud hereditary unfit
ness for this new civilization, they" would
have been more tolerant of her husband’s
failure than his own kind. She could not
believe that Don Jose really hated her
husband for buying of the successful
claimant, as there was no other legal
title. Allowing herselt to become inter
ested in the guileless gossip ot the new
hand maiden—proud of her broken Eng
lish—she was drawn into a sympathy with
the grave simplicity of Don Jose’s charac
ter—a relic of that true nobility which
placed the descendant of the Castilians
and this daughter of a free people on tbe
same level.
In this way the second day of her occu
pancy of Los Cuervos closed, with dumb
clouds along the gray horizon, and the
paroxysms of hysterical wind growing
fainter and talnter outaide the walls; with
the moon rising after nightfall, and losing
itself in silent and mysterious confidence
with drifting scud. She went to lied earl v,
but awoke past midnight, hearing, as she
thought, her own name called. The im
pression was so strong upon her that she
and, hastily enwrapping herself,
went to the dark embresures of the oven
shaped windows and looked out. The
dwarfed oak beside the window was still
drooping from a past shower, but the
level waste of marsh and meadow be
yond seemed to advance and recede with
the coming and going of the moon. Again
she heard her name called, and this time
in accents so strangely familiar that with
a slight Try she ran into the corridor,
crossed the patio, and reached the open
gate. The darkness that had, even in this
brief interval, again fallen upon the pros
pect she tried in vain to pierce with eye
and voice. A blank silence followed.
Then the veil was suddenly withdrawn;
the vast plain, stretching from the moun
tain to the sea, shone as clearly as in the
tight of day; the moving current of the
channel glittered tike black pearls, the j
stagnant pools tike molten lead; but not
a sign of life nor motion broke the i
monotony of the broad expanse. She must !
have surely dreamed it. A chill wind !
drove her back to the house again; she en
tered her bedroom, and in bait an hour she
was in a peaceful sleep.
CHAPTER V.
The two men wept their secret. Mr.
Poindexter convinced Mrs. Tucker that
the sale of Los Cuervos could not be ef
fected until the notoriety of her husband’s
flight had been fairly forgotten, and she
was forced to acccept her fate. The sale
of her diamonds, which seemed to her to
have realized a singularly extravagant
sum, enabled her to quietly reinstate the
Pattersons in the tienda, aud to discharge
in full her husband’s liabilities to the
rancheros and his humble retainers.
Meanwhile the winter rains had ceased.
It seemed to her as if the clouds had sud
denly one night struck their white tents
and stolen away, leaving the unvanished
sun to mount the vacant sky the next
morning alone, aud possess it thencefor
ward unehallened. One afternoon she
thought the long sad waste before her
window had caught some tint of gayer
color from the sunset; a week later she
found it a blazing landscape of poppies,
broken here and there by blue lagoous of
lupine, by pools of daisies, by banks of
dog roses, by broad outlying shores of
dandelions that scattered their lavish gold
to the toot of the hills, where the green
billows of wild oats carried it on upward
to the darker crest of pines. For two
months she was dazzled and bewildered
with color. She had never before been face
to face with this spendthrift California
Flora, in her virgin wastefulness—her
more than goddess-like prodigality. Tne
teeming earth seemed to quicken and
throb beneath her feet; the few circuits of
a plow around the outlying corral were
enough to call out a jungle growth of gi
ant grain that almost hid the low walls of
tbe hacienda. In this glorious fecundity
of the earth, in this joyous renew al of
life and color, in this opulent youth and
freshness of soil and sky it alone re
mained—the dead and sterile Past—leit in
the midst of buoyant rejuvenescence and
resurrection, tike an empty churchyard
skull upturned on the springing turf." Its
bronzed adobe walls mocked the green
vine that embraced them, the crumbling
dust of its court vard remained unger
minating and unfruitful; to the thousand
stirring voices without its dry tips alone
remained mute, unresponsive and un
changed.
During this time Don Jose had become
a frequent visitor at Los Cuervos, bring
ing with him at first his niece and sister
in a statelv precision of politeness that
was not lost on the proud Blue Grass
stranger, ske returned their visit at Los
Gatos.and there made the formal acquaint
ance of Don Jose’s grandmother—a lady
w ho still regarded the decrepit Concha as
a giddy muchacha , and who herself glitter
ed as with the phosphorescence of refined
decay. Through this circumstance she
learned that Don Jose was not yet fifty,
aud that his gravity of manner and
sedatenss was more the result of fastidi
ous isolation aad temperament than years.
She could not tell why tiie information
gave her a feeling of "annoyance, but it
caused her to regret the absence of Poin
dexter, and to wonder, also somewhat
nervously, why he had lately avoided her
presence. The thought that he might be do
ing so from a recollection of the innuen
does of Mrs. Patterson caused a little
tremor of indignation in her pulses. "As
if_” but she did not finish the sentence
even to herself, and her eyes filled with
bitter tears.
Y'et she had thought of the husband who
had so cruelly wronged her less feverish
ly. less impatiently than before. For she
thought she loved him now the more deeply,
because, although she was not reconciled
to his absence, it seemed to keep alive the
memorr of what he had been before his
one wild act separated them. She had
never seen the reflection of another wo
man’s eves in his; the past contained no
haunting recollection ot waning or alien
ated affection; she could meet him
again, and, clasping her arms around him,
awaken as it from a troubled dream
without reproach or explanation. Her
strong belief in this made her patient;
she no longer sought to know the particu
lars of his flight, and never dreamed that
her passive submission to his absence
was partlv due to a fear that something
in his actual presence at that moment
would have destroyed that belief forever.
For this reason the delicate reticence of
the people at Los Gatos, and their seclu
sion from the world which knew of her
husband's fault, had made her encourage
the visits of Don Jose, until from the in
stinct already alluded to she one day sum
moned Poindexter to Los Cuervos, on the
day that Don Jose usually called. But to
her suprise the two men met more or less
awkwardlv and coldly, and her tact as
hostess was tried to the utmost to keep
their evident antagonism from being too
apparent. The efiort to reconcile their
mutual discontent, and some other feel
ings she did not quite understand, pro
duced a nervous excitement which called
the blood to her fair cheek and gave a dan
gerous brillaney to her eyes—two circum
stances not unnoticed nor unappreciated
bv her two guests. But instead of reunit
ing them, the prettier Mrs. Tucker be
came, the more distant and reserved grew
the men. until Don Jose rose before his
usual hour, and with more than usual
ceremoniousness departed.
"Then mv business does not seem to be
with him ?*’" said Poindexter, with quiet
coolness, as Mrs. Tucker turned her some
what mvstified face toward him. “Or have
you anything to say to me about him in
private?"
"I am sure I don't know what you both
mean," she returned with a slight tremor
of voice. “1 had no idea you were not
on good terms. I thought voa were! It’s
very awkward." YYitbout coquetry and
unconsciously she raised her blue eye*
under her lids until the clear pupils coyly
and softly hid themselves in the corners
of the brown lashes, and added: "1 ou
have both been so kind to me.”
“Perhaps that is the reason,” said Poin
dexter. gravely.
But Mrs. Tucker refused to accept the
suggestion with equal gravity, and began
to laugh. The laugh, which was at first
frank, spontaneous and almost child-like,
was becoming hysterical and nervous as
she went on, until it was suddenly checked
by Poindexter.
“I have bad no difficulties with Don
Jose Santierra,'’ he said, somewhat coldly
ignoring her hilarity; “but perhaps be is
not inclined to be as polite to the friend of
the husband as he is to the wife.”
“Mr. Poindexter!” said Mrs. Tucker,
quickly, her face becoming pale again.
“I beg your pardon,” said Poindexter,
flushing; “but—”
“You want to say,” she interrupted,
cooly, “that you are iiot friends, 1 see. Is
that the reason why you have avoided this
house?” she continued, gently.
“I thought 1 could be of more service to
you elsewhere,” he replied, evasively. “I
have been lately following up a certain
clue rather closely. 1 think lam on the
track of a confidante of—of—that wo
man. ”
A quick shadow passed over Mrs.
Tucker’s face.
“Indeed!” she said, coldly. “Then lam
to believe thafyou prefer to spend vour
leisure moments in looking after that crea
ture than in calling here?”
Poindexter was stupefied. Was this the
woman who only four months ago was al
most vindictively eager to pursue her
husband’s paramour? There could be but
one answer to it—Don Jose! Four months
ago he would have smiled compassionate
ly at it from his cynical pre-eminence.
Now he managed with difliculty to stflie
the bitterness of his reply.
“If you do not wish the inquiry carried
on,” he began, “of course—”
“I ? What does it matter to me V’ she
said, coolly. “Do as you please.”
Nevertheless, half an hour later, as he
was leaving, she said, with a certain hes
itating timidity: “Do not leave me so
much alone here—and let that woman
' go.”
! 1 his was not the only unlooked-for se
quel to her innocent desire to propitiate
her only friends. Don Jose did not call
again upon his usual day, but in his place
! came Dona Clara, his younger sister,
i When Mrs. Tucker had politely asked af
i ter the absent Don Jose, Dona Clara
wound her swarthy arms around the fair
American's waist and replied: “But why
j did you send tor the abogado Poindexter
! when my brother called?”
“But Capt. Poindexter calls as one of
i my friends,” said the amazed Mrs. Tuck
j er. “He is a gentleman, and has been a
! soldier and an officer,” she added, with
some warmth.
“Ah, yes, a soldier of the law—what !
you call an oiciai de policia—a chief of
'gendarme*, my sister; but not a gentle
man—a camarero to protect a lady.”
Mrs. Tucker would have uttered a has
ty reply, but the neriect and good-natured
simplicity of Dona Clara withheld her.
Nevertheless she treated Don Jose with a ‘
certain reserve at their next meeting, un
til it brought the simple-minded Castilian
so dangerously near the point of demand
ing an explanation which implied too i
much that she was obliged to restore him
temporarily to his old footing. Meantime !
she bad a brilliant idea.- She would write .
to Calhoun Weaver, whom she had avoid- ;
ed 6ince that memorable day. She would
say she wished to consult him. He would ’
come to Los Cuervos. He might suggest ]
something to lighten this weary waiting
—at least, she would show them all that
she had still old friends. Yet she did not
dream of returning to her old Blue Grass
home. Her parents had died since she
left. She shrank from the thought of drag
ging her ruined life before the hopeful
youth of her girlhood’s companions.
Mr. Calhoun Weaver arrived promptlv,
ostentatiously, oracularly and cordially—
but a little coarsely. He had—did she’re
member?—expected this from the first.
Spencer had lost his head through vanity,
and had attempted too much. It required
foresight and firmness, as he himself—
who had lately made successful “combi
nations'' which she might perhaps have
heard of—well knew. But Spencer had
got the “big head.” “As to that woman—
a devilish handsome woman, too!—well,
everybody knew that Spencer always had
a weakness that way—and he would say
—but it she didn’t care to hear any more
about her, well, perhaps she was’ right.
That was the best way to take it.” Sit
ting before her. prosperous, weak, egotis
tical, incompetent, unavailable, and yet
filled with a vague kindliness of intent,
Mrs. Tucker loathed him. A sickening
perception of her own weakness in send
ing for him, anew and aching sense of
her utter isolation and helplessness,
seemed to paralyze her.
“Nat’rally you feel bad,” he continued,
with a large air of a profound student ot
human nature. “Nat'rallv, nat’rallv
you’re kept in an uncomfortable 6tate, not
knowing jisthow you stand. There ain’t
but one thing to do. Jist rise up, quiet
like, and get a divorce agin Spencer.
Hold on! There ain't a Judge or jury in
California that wouldn’t give it to you
right off the nail, without asking ques
tions. Why, you’ll get it by default if you
wanted to—you’ll just have to walk o'ver
the course! " And then. Belle”—he drew
his chair nearer her—“when you’ve set
tled down again—well!—l don't mind re
newing that”offer I once made ye, before
Spenner ever came round ye—l don’t
mind, Belle, I swear I don’t! Honest In
giu! I’m in earnest; there’s my hand!”
Mrs. Tucker’s reply has not Deen re
corded. Enough that half an hour later
Mr. Weaver appeared in the courtyard
with traces of tears on his foolish face, a
broken falsetto voice, and other evidences
of mental and moral disturbance. His
cordiality and oracular predisposition re
mained sufficiently to enable bim to sug
gest the magical words “Blue Grass”
mysteriously to Concha with an indica
tion of his hand to the erect figure of her
pale mistress in the doorway, who waved
to him a silent but half-compassionate
farewell.
At about this time a slight change in her
manner was noticed bv the few who saw
her more frequently. Her apparently in
vincible girlishness of spirit bad given
wav to a certain matronly seriousness.
She’ applied herself to her household cares
and the improvement of the hacienda with
anew sense of duty and a settled earnest
ness, until by degrees she wrought into it
not onlv her instinctive delicacy and taste,
but part of her own individuality. Even
the rude runcheros and tradesmen who
were permitted to enter the walls in the
exercise of their calling began to speak
mysteriously of the beauty of this garden
of the almarjal. She went’out but seldom,
and then accompanied by the one or the
other of her female servants, in long
drives on unfrequented roads. On Sun
days she sometimes drove to the half
ruined mission church of Santa Inez, ana
hid herself, during mass, in the dim "mon
astic shadows of tbe choir. Gradually
the poorer people whom she met in these
journeys began to show an almost devo
tional reverence for her, stopping in the
roads with uncovered heads for her to
pass, or making way for her in the tienda
or plaza of the wretched town with dumb
courtesy. She began to feel a strange
sense of widowhood, that, while it at
times brought tears to her eyes, was not
without a certain tender solace. In tbe
sympathy and simpleness of this impulse
she went’ as far as to revive the mourning
sbe had worn for her parents, but with
such a fatal accenting of her beauty, and
dangerous misinterpreting of her condi
tion' to eligible bachelors strange to the
country, that she was obliged to put it off
again. * Her reserve annd dignified man
ner caused others to mistake her nation
ality for that of the Santierras. and in
“Dona Bella" the simple Mrs. Tucker was
for a while forgotten. At times she even
I forgot it herself. Accustomed now almost
entirely to the accents of another lan
; guage and the features of another race
! she would sit for hours in the eorridor,
whose massive bronzed enclosure even
her tasteful care could only make an em
bowered mausoleum of the past, or gaze
I abstractedly from the dark embrasures of
her window’s across the stretching almar
! j u to the shining lagoon beyond that ter
minated the estuary. She had a strange
; fondness for this tranquil mirror, which
under the sun or stars always retained
the passive reflex of the sky above and
seemed to rest her weary eyes. She had
objected to one of the plans proposed by
Poindexter to redeem the land and deepen
the water at the embarcadero, as it would
have drained the lagoon, and the lawyer
had postponed the improvement to gratify
her fancy. So she kept it through the long
\ summer unchanged save by the shadow of
passing wings or the lazy files of sleeping
> sea fowl.
I On one of these afternoons she noticed a
slowly moving carriage leave the high road
S and cross the almarjal skirting the edge of
the lagoon. If it contained visitors for Los
Cuervos they had evidently taken a
shorter cut, without waiting to go on to
the regular road which intersected the
hghway at right angles a mile further
on. It'was with some sense of annoyance
and Irritation that she watched the tres
pass, and finally saw the vehicle approach
! the house. A few moments later toe ser
vant informed her that Mr. Patterson
would like to see her alone. When she
entered the corridor, which in dry season
served as a reception bail, she was sur
prised to see that Mr. Patterson was not
eer’s debts himself, and perhaps you’re
satisfied it isn’t to hold the whip hand of
him and keep him from coming back
openly. Pr’aps you know why he’s
movin’ heaven and earth to make Don
Jose Santierra sell tbe ranch, and why
the Don don’t see it at all.
“Don Jose sell Los Cuervos! Buy it,
you mean?" said Mrs. Tucker. “/ of
fered to sell it to him.”
Patterson arose from the chair, looked
despairingly around him, passed his hand
sadly across his forehead and said: “It’s
come! I knew it would. It's the warn
ing! It’s suthing betwixt jim-jams and
doddering idjiocy. Here I’d hev been
willin’ to swear that Mrs. BaxterJiere
told me she had sold this yer ranch nearly
two years ago to Don Jose, and now
you ”
“Stop!” said Mrs. Tucker, in a voice
that chilled them.
She was standing upright and rigid, as
if stricken to stone. “I command you to
tell me what this means!” she said,’ turn
ing only her blazing eves upon the woman.
Even the ready smile failed from Mrs.
Baxter's lips as she replied hesitatingly
and submissively: “I thought you knew
already that Spencer had given this panch
to me. I sold it to Don Jose to get the
money for us to go awav with. It was
Spencer's idea ”
“You lie!" said Mrs. Tucker.
There was a dead silence. The wrath
ful blood that had quickly mounted to
Mrs. Baxter's cheek, to Patterson’s addi
tional bewilderment faded as quicklv.
She did not lift her eyes again to Mrs.
Tucker’s, but, slowly raising herself from
her seat, said, “I wish to God I did lie;
but it’s true. And it’s true that I never
touched a cent of the money, but gave it
all to him!” She laid her hand on Patter
son’s arm and said, “Come! let us go,”
and led him a few steps toward the gate
way. But here Patterson paused and
again pres sell his hand over bis melan
choly brow. Tbe necessity of coherently
and logically closing the conversation im
pressed itself upon his darkening mind.
“Then you don’t happen to have beard
anything of Spencer?” he said sadly, and
vanished with Mrs. Baxter through the
gate.
Left alone to herself. M rs. Tucker raised
! her bands al*>ve her head with a littleerv,
i interlocked her rigid fingers and slowiv
! brought her palms down upon her up
| turned face and eyes, pressing hard as if
j to crush out all light and sense of life be-
I tore her. She stood thus for a moment
motionless and silent, with tbe rising wind
whispering without and flecking her white
i morning dress with gusty shadows from
the arbor. Then, with closed eyes, drop
ping her hands to her breast, still press
ing hard, she slowly passed them down
the shapely contours of htr figure to the
waist, and with another cry cast them off
as if she were stripping herself of some
loathsome garment. Then she walked
quickly to the gateway, looked out, re
turned to the corridor j unloosening and
taking off her wedding ring from.her fin
ger as she walked. Here she paused, then
slowly and deliberately rearranged the
chairs and adjusted the cay-colored rugs
that draped them and quietlv re-entered
her chamber.
Two da vs afterward the sweating steed
of Capt. Poindexter was turned loose in
the corral and a moment later the Captain
entered the corridor. Handing a letter
to the decrepit Concha, who seemed to be
utterly disorganized bv its contents, and
the few curt words with which it was de
livered, he gazed silently upon the vacant
bower, still fresh and redolent with the !
delicacy and perfume of its -n-acefai oc- i
cupant, until his dark eyes filled with un- 1
accustomed moisture. 'But his reverie
was interrupted by the sound of jingling
spurs without, and the old humor strug
gled back in his eyes as Don Jose impetu
ously entered. The Spaniard started back,
but instantly recovered himself.
"So ; I find you here. Ah!—it is well!”
he said passionately, producing a letter
from his bosom. “Look! Do you call
this honor? Look how vou keep vour I
compact!” "
Poindexter coolly took the letter. It
contained a few words of gentle di 'nitv
from Mrs. Tucker, informing Don Jose
that she had only that instant learned of
his just claims upon Los Cuervos, ten
dering him her gratitude for hisilelicate in
tentions, but pointing out with respectful
firmness that he must know that a mo
ment’s further acceptance of his courtesy
was impossible.
"She has gained this knowledge from no
word of mine,” said Poindexter, calmly.
“Right or wrong, 1 have kept my promise
to you. I have as much reason to accuse
you of hetraying my secret in this,” he
added coldly, as he took another letter
from his pocket and banded it to Don Jose.
It seemed briefer and colder, but was
neither. It reminded Poindexter that as
he had again deceived her. she must take
the government of her affairs in her own
hands henceforth. She abandoned all the
furniture and improvements she had put in
Los Cuervos to him,to whom she now knew
she was indebted for them. She could not
thank him for what his habitual generos
ity impelled him to do for any woman,but
she couid forgive him for misunderstand
ing her like any other woman—perhaps
she should say, like a child. When he
received this she would be already on her
way to her old home in Kentucky, where
she still hoped to be able by her own ef
forts to amass enough to discharge her
obligations to him.
“She does not speak of her husband—
this woman,” said Don Jose, scanning
Poindexter’s face. “It is possible she re
joins him, eh ?”
“Perhaps in one way 6be has never left
him, Don Jose,” said Poindexter, with
grave significance.
Don Jose's face flushed, but he returned
carelessly, “And the rancho —naturally
you will not buy it now?”
“On the contrary. I shall abide by my
offer,” said Poindexter, quietly.
Don Jose eyed him narrowly, and then
said, -Ah, we shall consider of it.”
He did consider it, and accepted the
offer. With tbe full control of the land,
Capt. Poindexter’s improvements, so in
definitely postponed, were actively pushed
forward. The thick walls of the hacienda
were the first to melt away before them;
the low lines ol corral were effaced and
the early breath of the summer trade
winds swept uninterruptedly across the
now leveled plain to the embarcadero,
where a newer structure arose. A more
vivid green alone marked the spot where
the crumbling adobe walls of the casa had
returned to the parent soil that gave it.
The channel was deepened, the lagoon was
drained, until one evening the magic mir
ror that had so long reflected the weary
waiting of the Blue Grass Penelope lay
dull, dead, lustreless—an opaque quag
mire of noisome corruption and decay to
be put away from the sight of man forever.
On thisspot the crows—the titular tenants
of Los Cuervos—assembled in tumultuous
congress, coming and going in mysterious
clouds, or laboring in thick and writhing
masses, as if they were continuing the
work of improvement begun by human
agency. So well had they done their
work that bv the end of a week only a few
scattered white objects remained glitter
ing on the surface of the quickly drving
soil. But they were the bones of the miss
ing outcast. Spencer Tucker!
*♦*•*
The same spring a breath of war swept
over a foul, decaying quagmire of the
whole land, before which such passing
deeds as these were blown as a vapor. It
called men of all rank and condition to
battle for a nation's life, and among the
first to respond were those into whose
boyish hands had been placed the nation's
honor. It returned the epaulettes to Poin
dexter’S shoulder, with the addition of a
double star, carried him triumphantly to
the front, and left him. at tbe end 6f a
summer’s day and a hard-won fight, sorely
wounded, at the door of a Blue Grass farm
house. And the woman who sougbt him
out and ministered to his wants said tim
idly as she left her hand in his, “1 told
you I should live to repay you.”
[THE END.
Woxen go to a seashore resort near San
Francisco in great numbers unattended by
men. and an adventuress said to herself that
here was a field in which tooperate the bnnko
game on her own sex. She is described as a
motherlv-looking matron, dressed in sober
fashion,'and well calculated to impress an
unwary observer as having been “modeled
out of a solid block of benignity." She hired
a room, put a three-card monte man into it,
and then went among the women on the
beach to fetch victims. At the end of a week
she anxiously inquired if there was a pawn
broker in the place. There wasn't. She next
begged for cents to pay her fare to town.
The women had permitted her to lead them
into what she supposed was temptation: but
they simply listened to the prattle of the
monte dealer, watched his deft fingering of
the cards, and said, “Oh, no. thank you,”
when invited to make abet.
Advice to Mothers.
Mm. Winslow'B Soothing Syrcf
snouia always be used when children are
cutting teeth. It relieves the little suf
ferer at once: it produces natural, quiet
sleep by relieving the child from pain, and
the little cherub awakes as “ bright as a
button.” It is very pleasant to taste. It
soothes the child.'softens the gums, al
lavs all pain, relieves wind, regulates
the bowels, and is the best known remedy
nr diarrhoea, whether arising from tee th
in. or other causes. 25 cents a bottle.
lotttrtrc.
r- CAPITAL
Tickets Paly Shares , n p roport^tt
1.5.1 j
LOUISIANA STATE LOTTERY CO
Annual DravnnQ t ♦/ the LouUian.,
conducted vith fairnee* * ,Jr *
faith tmoara •mdtmZLS. >o *
Company to w thi* certijtcxte, Zithf \
/
commissioners.
Incorporated in 1968 for 15 rear* h. ,
Ulature for educational and chsnuv- t**'
poses-with a capita! of t1.000,y,J ; *P-
Sftdld oTer ,MO ’ OW) hSf *3S*
.SssrATS';.;*--
Constitution, adopted December ? i
The only Lottery ever Totofoa '.V s - 7 *’
doraed by the people of any State. 8 '* ad !B "
It nerer itealee orpnttpone*
pllE onSSr S . ,KCLK
A SPLENDID OPPORTUNITY T \vtv
FoßTUXE.—Seveuth Grand b r „ - * 4
G. in tbe ACADEMY OF MUSIC v/ivS 1
MontSiV Drawing.''' WLt
CAPITAL PRIZE *75.000.
180,080 Tickets It Five Dollars Kaw>
tions in Fifths in proportion.'
list or rnizzs.
1 Capital Prize j -
1 Capital Prize ’
I Capital Prize $2
* Prize* of 16,000
* Prize* of i,OOO
10 Prizes of y<)o
80 Prizes of 500.
100 Prizes of Sv*o
300 Prizes of 100 Jr®*
M>o Prizes of SO r 's®
LOCO Prizes of ii
iPPROJ-if ATIOS PRIZES,
9 Approximation Prizes of 1750 -a
9 Approximation Prize*of 500 cL*
9 Approximation Prizes of o ..
1,967 Prize*, amounting to IJSviio
Application for rates to clubs shout: :*■
Orleans the Company sn N ew
For further information write clea.-;v. r T
ing full address. Make P. O. Slonov OMen
b* r >? D '.l ? r j:tve** 1 Registered Letters u> "
XhW ORLEANS NATIONAL RANK.
POSTAL NOTES and ordinary Setters'bT
Mail or Express all sums of *5 and unwazi
by Express a; our expense to
M. A. DAUPHIN.
OTM. A. DAUPHIN, Neworl
607 Seventh street. Washington, I> c
Or JNO. B. FERN ANDEZ,
Savannah. Ga.
•;, , 1
TTLE HAVANA
GOULD & COS. V \
13 DECIDED ST
ROYAL HAVANA LOTTERY,
(A GOVERNMENT INSTITUTION ,
Drawn at Havana, Cuba,
EVERY 1 TO 14 DAYS.
Tickets, IS: Halves. SI.
See that the name Gould & Cos. is the a,
ticket.
Subject to no manipulation, not controlled
by the parties in interest. It is the fairett
thing in the nature of chance in existcuce.
For information and particulars apply u
SHIPSEY CO., Gen. Agents, 111: Broad
way, S. Y. City, or J. B. FERNANDEZ,Sa
vannah. Ga.
ittrbtrinal.
MOTHER’S
FRIEND.
A QCICK AXD EASY TIME.
A distinguished physician of Mississippi
writes: “Every one expecting to Is- confioed
should use the Mother's Friend, for daring a
long obstetric practice I have never known it
to fail to produce a quick and safe ri. . very,''
A lady from one of the countie* o Middle l
Georgia, who has been acting midwife lot
manr years, writes: “I have disposed o t all tbe
Mother's Friend you sent me. and 1 am de- i
lighted with it. In every instance w>,etv it
has been used its effects have been all that I
couid ask. I consider it a great bles.ng.”
This remedv is one about which we caiiMt j
publish certificates, but it is a mod wonder
ful liniment to be used after the first two or
three months.
fiend for our treatise on the Health and
Happiness of Woman, mailed free, winch
gives all particulars.
The Brzdfield Regulator Cos..
Box 2*. Atlanta. Ga. ;
ft l.ooo.uoTS
\\' ! I I. be pa id to any one who will lad a
I v pan. -le of Mercury. Potash. I,line. Ar
senic, or any poisonous substance iu
Swifts Specific j
“I have cured B'ood T-int by the use ol
Swift's Specific after I had must - gn yu-ef
with the Mercury and Potash treatm-ai.
F. A. TOOMEK. M. l>., Perry. Ut.
“Swift's .Specific has cured meof -crelsltof
li years’standing. Had sores as Drrs
hand, and everyone though*. 1 was ;mei.
•Swift’s Specific cured me after ph; ixsaum
all other medicine had failed.'
R. L. HIGH. Lonoke. Ar*
<f I ft ftftft would not pur**a** m e
JIU.UUU what Swiff- v.- ' ' 1
for me. It cured me of Rheumatism axsed W
malaria.” . ~ _
ARCHIE THOMAS, SpnngSeel. Tear
Our Treatise on Blood and ski- Dmtm
mailed free to applicants.
TUESWIFT SPECIFIC CO.
Drawer 3. AtUr.;,b.
X. Y. Office. 158 W. ihl St., bet. #tk J®
Ave*. Philadelphia office. lius€h*tpgt>‘ _
OPIUM habit cf
U I IWIf I TIOS FROM b: tlM'-j
ALL COMMUNICATIONS 'jMaU
CONFIDENTIAL. FOR PAVPKLI
and CERTIFICATE?* address GEO. a
BRADFORD, M. D.. Drugg ““
Pharmacist. P. O. Box 261 CMwm
Ga. ——
zAPIUM and WHISKY HABIT *****
U B. M. WOOLLEY, M.D- At: lata J*
Reliable evidence given ar. . reference
patients and physicians. >end for J"*
on the Habits and tbeir C ere, free s
Nervous Debility
ICE !ICE!
Knickerbocker Ice Cos,
* 1 BAT STREET.
YYholesule and Retail Dealer* b
KENNEBEC ICE!
Orders by Mail, Telep&ofi*, *
givea to onr Drivers, pros?*!? |
tended to.
TELEPHONE NUMBER,
Jutn&rr, etr. -
BACON, JOHNSON * JjJ*
Planing Mill and Lumber
Keep always a fell stock o.
Rough and Dressed
SHINGLES, LATHS, et
Aino. VEGETABLE CRATES. >g
Soda and Mineral Wafer 5
9 CENTS A OLASS,
At Strong s Drug SW*