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of the Wilderness
Written for
Sunny South
pnvn||| ROM the doorway of her
I'll padre's adobe hut. Oavlta.
! when the weather was
l good, could see the glea-in-
if 1ng waters of the gulf.
glistening white In the hot
. sun—that, long-necked body
* of water Into which the
Colorado pours Its torrents
and which finds its source
in the wild fastnesses of
the mountains hundreds of
miles to tiie northward,
.far beyond the border
line in the land of another nation and a
mightier race of people, lint Ohaelta.
shut up in a little world of her own since
her birth, knew not of that or the awak
enings Pate lvad in store for her. Inex
perienced and unlearned, sh? had grown
up to be a. wild, beautiful flower, an ex
clusive specie of which science hath no
reckoning.
And what else could one expect? Born
of obscure parents, a product of the great,
wild and desolate Hill I<and, where civil
ization was a word that had no meaning
and even the smallest villages were few
and far between and its inhabitants no
less nomadic than the Arabic tribes of the
East. And such had be^n the narrow
ness of her life, its unchanging quiet
and uncommunicaaive with the outer
world that she had grown up into an
early womanhood, which meant nothing
to her. truly a child and only a child of
the wilderness. Her father, an old de
crepit man now. and Past approaching the
end of the last stage of his existence, had
been a ‘'herder" in his earlier days un
der the employ of it wealthy Mexican
rancher, but now a keeper of a flock of
goats which fed on the grass of the neigh
boring hills and belonged to a distant
rancher, who lived iiO or 60 miles nearer
the Colorado.
And for the caring of this flock old
Antone was able to gain food and shel
ter for himself and daughter in his de
clining years. But. characteristic of his
brothers, he allowed the woman of the
household to do the hiltor, which Chacita
(lid; going put In the hills with the flock
in the mornings and returning at nights
early enough to cook “freoles” and “tor
tillas." which were the sole constituents
of their repasts.
Old Antone played the flute incessantly.
But whatever might have been the girl's
conviction concerning her padre’s devo
tion to that art, it was not for her to
give It expression. So old Antone had
said. And. consequently, the girl came
and went, more like a shadow than any
thing else that goes and comes accord
ing to the time of day, comfortless and
rarely with anything to say. She m ide
no complaint, and because life had never
prepared for her a better feast she ex
pect* d nothing more. And now, the time
1 speak of, Chacita was probably a girl
of seventeen, dark eyes, dark skinned,
with Gypsy black hair and a full, round
beaut*''ul face that Diana herself might
have envied. Small of stature, lithe of
limb, fresh and young, and in total ig
norance of the world's contaminating
knowledge and its vices she was no less
than a. nymph, a Niobe of the hills. But
had anyone, supposing there trad been
anyone, said as much in words to old
Antone he would have considered it a
sacrilege and straightway would liawe
answered with convincing directness:
"All—si—no!—Mi muchacha. Diable!"
Which moans, my dear, that she was
nothing more than his daughter, which,
in the eyes of the old man was not much!
Bike his brothers again, he placed but
small value on his "progenle" save In a
material way. While the "mi muchacha”
might be out laboring in her small way
for the bread of life, the old nun would
lay on his back under the cool shade of
a mysquite and dream of the golden
possibilities of the sweet “manynna."
Such was the. reason that old Antone
placed any worth on his child vat all.
Filial affection was not one o'f the fail
ings. please the blessed saints! Though
an old man he had his aspirations, and
he carried them out as far as his playing
and the flute would permit.
Somethin s at the quiet hour of dusk
the long-drawn whine of a stray coyote,
coming from the neighboring ravine,
would send back the sorrowful echo of
his magic flute. This was the only sign
that his efforts as a musician and a "soul
charmer" were 'appreciated. But little can
be boasted, i fear, of the coyote's dis
criminating ear for music and his soul,
which it was in the old man’s heart, at
such times, to attribute to him. But
however great might have been the love
that seemed to even radiate In its warmth
between these two outcasts—the old man
old the coyote—Chacita was feeltngless
toward both. One was a nuisance and
the other a tyrant. And so, as much as
possible, she Isolated herself from the
two and craved Inwardly for the things of
which she knew nothing, but her fertile
imagination and young heart made en-
traneingly realistic In her daily fancies
an idleness of which she was guilty when
l>in^ under the shade of the rocks or
tending the flock.
One evening when she was out in the
hills tind oblivious to her surroundings,
so taken up was she with her own
thoughts, the faint clatter of galloping
hoofs broke on her ear. and a few min
utes biter the lone rider reigned In,his
heated animal in front of her and half
fell out of his saddle.
"Buenos dins," lie said in a hurried
voice.
Almost speechless with fright the girl
returned his greeting with a faltering
tongue. But she noticed that he was no*
of her own people, and although he spoke
her language it was with a foreign ac
cent. The crisp, brown hair, the gray
eyes „„d his florid complexion told her
that he was n foreigner.
n God s name, is there no way in which
5 on may save me?' * 1
His voice was faint and husky and the
man s clothing was covered with a thick
coating of whjte, powdery dust.
. J 1 ? o m ll > in s of hunger and thirst. For
lOhe^tinTme
come to my aid?” wlu
He raised one hand in mute appeal the
other was bandaged tight to his side Shi
‘ a * ‘hat he was wounded and she was
touched with compassion, her dark eves
filling with a soft light. Y
"You come afar?” she asked. "And
why do men seek to kill you?”
The man broke out in a harsh laugh
and 'staggered a little.
"I , lie said, "they do not want me
wed—as much as they want this." And
he pointed with the uninjured arm to his
saddle pouch. "That,” he continued, "is
what they want. I stole it. I took it
from under the very nose of old Santa
Anna, I spun him around on his wooden
stump and defied him and escaped right
in the midst of his soldiers. Egad! it was
sport!” •
A look of horror had come over the
girl’s face.
"Tut!—tut!” said the man, divining lier
thoughts. “I am not a thief—a common
thief, but a soldier, a spy in the Ameri
can army. What is that?” —
Again he laughed and glanced hurried
ly down the rock-y ravine. "A spy? A
thing whom all men hate, and a man who
faces death at all times and Is condemned
save by those for whom he plots, steals or
labors. He Is only tolerated In his own
land, and sooner or later he must die a
wretched death. Egad! I don't like the
idea of sleeping on the side of one of
these hills. St. Peter might never think
to send his angels here on the close of
the judgment day, and Jamie Hacks
would sleep the sleep of eternity. Egad—
had you thought of that, child?"
The girl shook her head solemnly and
made the sign of tin; cross on her breast.
He had awakened a new thought within
her, and she was sorely troubled.
"I will tell you where you may find
water.” she said at last. "It is at the
spring in the cave.”
■•The cave?” he gasped, struck with a
new Idea. “Where is tills cave, senorlta;
and can me and my poor horse hide In It.
And does anyone else know of Its ex
istence?’’
"None,” said the girl; "not even padre.
But the fairies dwell within It and
throughout the long hours of the day,
when I am there, you may hear them
sing In the soft ripple of the waters.
"Now bless Jamie Hacks. said th
man. a faint smile on his tanned band-
some face. "You’re a queer little chick.
Egad, you make a picture. And I know
of a one Jack Hallfngsworth back In the
states who would have you on ii canvas
in a minute. The face of the Madonna,
he would say.”
The girl blushed and looked down.
“The saints would not like such talk.”
she said, "if they should hear.’’
Her strange companion broke out In a
stranger laugh, but as suddenly clapped
ills hand to his wounded arm and said,
"Damn!”
"What does that mean?" asked the
girl, looking up at him.
"O—he answered; "that nreans—you
take my breath away. And just at present
It goes so easy. It leaves me blowed—
plum blowed!”
"Oh!” said Chacita; "I’m so sorry.
Then I would not say it If I were you—if
It hurts.”
"O—damn!" said the man again.
"Child, have mercy on me. or the Irish
in me will get the best of me and I’ll
croak—egad! I'll croak!"
The serious look on the dark, beautiful
upturned face did not change.
"You are not like padre,” she said.
“You talk more.”
"Where is padre?” asked the man.
"Peace to him and may he live in ig
norance of tne now and ever afterwards.
Senorlta, does your padre know that his
country is at war with mine? And does
he like spies? 1 mean, does he have
them to eat at his table—bosom friends,
you know?”
"We have no tablp, senor, and we have
no one to eat with us since madre
(■mother) passed to the angels. He knows
no one and no one knows us.”
"Ah! Then your father must be a qtieer
specimen. But—egad! I like him the bet
ter for it. On my soul, I do. And where
is your padre now, cara mio?”
"At the casa (house).’’
"Is it far from here?”
"A good ways, senor."
“Good. Then tell him nothing of me.
Don't disturb the old gentleman. He may
not like to be bothered with—er—trifles,
you know.”
Her dark eyes looked up at him in ques
tion.
"He does not ask me many things, and
when he does not ask 1 do not tell him
things.”
"Good again. Now what a sweet chick
you are. But the spring, senorlta. Dead
on; I will follow.” And using his horse
for a support the man followed the girl
down a little rocky path that led—he
knew not where. It was evident that he
was suffering, hut his hardy, robust na
ture would not allow him to yield to the
pain. His eyes were bent on the small
rounded figure ahead of him In wonder
ment, astonishment and most of all—in-
credubility. From the bottom of his soul
he vowed that he had never seen as pretty
a chick before, and as wild and coy as a
doe. For the time being he forgot that
he was a hunted man. And when they
reached the cave and he sat down wearily
on a rock and she brought him a gourd
of the cool water he took one of the
loose strands of lwr hair in his hands
and looked at it and rubbed it between
h "Aye^Tie said; “it’d like the night, but
it’s soft!”—Senorlta. you and these
silent hills are like things of anothei
world. You know not of the world from
which I come? All, eara mio. it seems a
long, long, ways off. and it has been
many a long day since I was there—
back in the old plney woods where me
mother awaits her rascal son. Faith on
me! it hurts. Det me lie down and
sleep.” And after gulping down the water
which she had brought him he stretched
himself out on the cool rock flooring of
the cave, with his saddle for a pillow, and
closed liis eves. "You don t mind staying
a hit.” he said in a half whisper," and
stand guard over a soldier that’s plum
blowed? And you might take off the
bandage and see what's to be done with
the arm. Maybe the water, a little of the
water on it would lessen the pain.”
The wounded man sighed and thrilled
a little at the soft touch of her fingers,
and he opened his eyes to look at her—
und smiled. It was a beautiful childlike
face bending over him. And taking a
ring set with a brilliant out of his pocket
he slipped it on one of her lingers.
She blushed and seemed a little startled,
then overjoyed, as she nuirmered her
thanks.
"It is yours," he said, "keep it, ■and when
I am afar think of the poor hunted
wretch who gave It to you as a token of
his gratitude. Once, a lady wore it as a
sign that she was my betlirothed. But she
was false—and as wicked as the
devil himself, senorlta. And I tore my
self from her and went to the army— to
IJorget. Egad! what's that?’’
A great tear rolled down the girl’s
cheek, and the man lowered his brows in
thoughts, 1 is lips moved feverishly,
“Now, you are a queer little chick,’’
he said slowly. “I almost wish that you
bad been in her place. Bisten. You
have been good to me. And now if I die
or am killed tell your padre that he may
bury me, and keep what is in my waljet
as your own. You will find riches there
—enough to make you a princess in my
world. And if you ever run into her,
why, tell the dear old lady what became
of her boy. And the other, the devil and
his brood take her! There are also pa
pers in there. Destroy them, let no hu
man eye leyik upon them. 1 ask that for
the sake of my country. They contain
state secrets that only you and me and
my country must know. That Is why I
am hunted, child. Now I will sleep. You
will leave me soon. Come back to me
when the moon is up and fetch me a
morsel to eat.” And with another sigh
and a look at her he dropped oft to
sleep.
After redressing the wound she left him
resting peacefully, a faint smile on his
face. And for some reason, as she
slipped out of the cave on tip-toe for
fear of waking him, her young heart
went out to him—perhaps, because
she knew that he was suffering and be
cause he was a stranger in a strange
land and because, he had said as much,
his life was tilled with sorrow. And then
Chacita as she drove her flock homeward
found herself weeping, but there was a
mixture of Joy in her grief, and she did
not know why.
Did Antone was sitting in the doorway
of th'o adobe hut, blowing bis flute as
usual. He greeted his "ml muchacha"
with a long drawn wail of his Instrument
and nodded toward the soot blackened
kettle as a sign that the fire was out and
that a new one must be started and a
supper cooked. All this had old Antone
said in a single nod of his head and a
sudden trill of his magic flute. But Cha
cita had understood, and straightway, af
ter old Antone had made the sign and
blown his flute, the fire and the supper
came to pass. For the last 10 years of
his life had Antone (his right name) made
signs, and as if he possessed that strange
power of a magician, things always came
his way.
As the girl had raid, the old man had
but little to say, and that night he was
more silent than ever. lie had nothing to
Horatio Lankford King, of Atlanta,
Ga., the author of several of the
best original short stories published
in The Sunny South.
say at ail. And after the old man had
stretched himself out on his straw pallet
and dropped off to sleep and the girl
had hung up the red clay water jar over
the doorway outside she slipped cyit into
the night and ran as fast as her feet
would carry her back to the cave, with
a little food wrapped in a red kerchief
tucked under her arm and In the other a
bundle of goat fodder for the horse. When
she reached the mouth of the cave the
stranger heard the sound of her footfall
and he called to her. He was still lying
down, but during her absence had moved
within reach of the water. At the sight
of the food he thanked her with a smile,
but before touching a morsel he bade her
feed the tired horse first.
"We have been companions for a year
now,’’ he said, "and old Bops has never
deserted me. It does me good to see
him eat. What time is it, senorlta?’’
"Night has been on an hour or more,
senor; but it is very light.”
“They they will soon be here. You
breathed not a word to your padre?"
“No, senor.”
Rising to a sitting posture he proceed
ed to devour the food she Inul brought
him. "The iirst I've had in three days,
cara mio. Now bring me my wallet.”
She brought Jt to him and placed it
in his outstretched hand. It was pulpy
and heavy. Laying it on his knee ha
took out some papers, looked at them
and then placed them under his head,
with the remark:
“If they should find me I will have
these to destroy immediately."
"Now the gold and jewels; hide them
under the rocks, senorlta. And before
you go, lay the two pistols here on the
rocks beside me. Egad! the smell of
powder is as sweet smelling violets to
my nostrils. And now adios!—but wait;
will you kiss me?”
The girl faltered and looked away.
"Come,” he coaxed. "Kneel down here;
I would tell you something."
She did as he told her to do. and with
his free arm about her he drew her lips
down to his and the soft, black coils of
her, hanging hair fell in his face.
“Caro mio—Poclta!” he said in his deep
rich voice. "I will miss you when I
am gone. And will you miss me, too?"
A shudder passed through her frame,
and suddenly the little black head sank
on his breast and she sobbed. Her feel
ings were too intense to allow her to
speak. The stranger had won her young
and innocent heart. And half-ashamed
and overjoyed she left him lying on the
rocks, with the moonlight on his face-
and a bit of the night heavens far above
him.
On nearing the hut Chacita was attract
ed by the sound of voices and the shout
ing of men. She knew that the soldiers
had come. And from the cries of her
padre she also knew that he was ex
postulating with the men. It was evi
dent that they were asking him ques
tions and laughing a tthe old frightened
fellow's answers. Crouching benlnd a
mesquite bush she listened. Sue could
see the men plainly, standing about the
adobe hut, mounted on their sweltering
horses. The leader, undoubtedly an offi
cer In the Mexican army, was dismount
ed and stood with threatening sword in
front of the old man. He was talking
loudly.
“Tell us where the Americano Is,” he
was saying, "or by all the saints that
live I'll run thee through, old man.”
"Begone, you varlet!” answered old
Antone. "I know not whom you seek;
neither have I seen him.”
This speech threw the officer in a rage,
and he promptly knocked the old man
down with the butt end of his saber. And "
the girl, enraged at what she im„ seen,
rushed upon the assailant with the fury
of a young tigress.
"Now, by the blessed -Mary!” exclaim
ed that gentleman; "'be it angel or
hades? 1 ' And standing off wim hands
on his hips he looked upon the girl with
approving eyes, then with a sweep of
his sombrero, his hands thrown out be
fore him, he made her a bow that would
have put many a courtier to shame.
As he did so he caught sight of the ring
on the girl's finger that sparkled in the
moonlight, and his black eyes gleaming
like those of a serpent he caught at her
hand and wrenched the Jewel off.
“Now, m.v pretty senorlta!” he ex
claimed, “since It is not to he heard of
that the clouds should rain these down
and you should pick them up on the
hillsides, and (because I have seen that
ring before—pray tell us now where lletli
our enemy? I swear that it was but
two days agone that I saw it upon nis
hand. And from then and on I vowed
to have it. Come! now that you have be
trayed him, lead us to his lair.”
But the girl was not to be frightened
into a confession, and the word be
trayed” stung her to the qmc.v and only
strengthened her resolve to die, If needs
must 'be, with her secret. She met his
look defiantly and held herself erect;
then, with feminine cunning, she changed
her tactics and smiled. The love find
the woman were uppermost In her now.
"I beseech you, senor capitan, that you
return my ring. It was given me by a
stranger at noon this day in exchange for
a gourd of water and a morsel to eat.
lie is long gone.”
The exultant look on the Mexican’s face
changed to one of dark threat. The girl
had met him on equal ground and he
was baffled.
"Beware,” he said; "you dare not trifle
with me.”
An arch smile was on the girl’s face.
"No, senor; I dare, not.” Then lifting
her head (proudly and holding out her
hand, she continued: “My ring, senor.
Surely an officer of the army would not
stoop—"
With an oath the man threw the rlngj
at her feet.
“The girl tells the truth.” he Said.
And mounting his horse he commanded
•his men to move forward, but as they
turned into the little goat path just before
thundering down the ravine, the officer
looked back, waved his hand and cried:
"Adios—until on the morro-w, senorita.
When they were well out of sight the
girl ran after them a little ways, and,
alert In ali her senses, by the faint clatter
of tiie galloping horses she knew that
they had passed the fairies’ cave and that
Jamie Hacks was safe. Then her thoughts
naturally reverted to her father and she
ran back to learn the worst. She found
him sitting up, rocking his head in his
horny hands and moaning loudly. He was
too frightened to speak, and the blow on
the head had only robbed him of a few
minutes' consciousness.
When Chacita closed her eyes in sleep
that night the ring lay next her cheek on
her corn shuck pillow. And she dreamed
of the lady who had once worn It, and
Chacita felt the pangs of Jealousy for the
first time in her young life.
When the early light dawned Chacita
was up and gone with her flock, and old
Antone, two hours later, scratching his
head and reaching for the cold breakfast
which she had left hint, wondered *why
it was cold and that the girl should be
gone so soon. But it was only in the
hands of Chacita and Jamie Hicks to
solve that problem.
Worn out with travel and weak. Cha
cita found him asleep, but at her touch
he woke with a start and—shame
on Jamie Hacks—an oath. at the
same time reaching for his pistols. But
at the sight of her he smiled, a little sur
prised. but as might a child overjoyed.
"So soon!" he said.
“I feared for you,” she answered coyly;
“and because of that I slept but little.
And when I saw the light in the east I
was done ere Padre knew. Holy Mother!
I hope it is not a sin. The priests say
that we should have no secrets.”
"Faith! and you have not. Have vou
not made confession to me? And since I
know your secrets you have no secrets.
Egad, what a chit you are!”
The girl opened her eyes wide. Verily,
Jamie Hacks was an all-wise lover. Then
with an eased conscience she related what
had taken place on the night before.
When she finished the man was smiling
up at her.
"You were a brave girl,” he said with
unconcealed admiration. "And you did it
all for Jamie Hacks. But you should not
have worn the ring."
- There was a grieved look in the girl's
eyes.
“You put it on,” she said, “and I
thought that tiie senor meant for it to
stay."
"Now bless Jamie Hacks!” exclaimed
the man. "Right you be. and what an
obedient lass you are. Wear it! Wear it
in the face of the devil himself aught I
fear. And with sword and saber will
Jamie Hacks defend your right."
After eating the scant meal which she
had brought him they left the cave to
gether and entered the little goat path
that led down into the ravine. The man
had regained his lost strength, but the
flesh wound In his arm was still painful.
When they had crossed the ravine and
he had staked out his horse they climbed
to the brow of the hill and looked
westward—and lo! how beautiful and
still was the scene that lay before them.
The Gulf of California glistened like a
sea of diamonds in the morning sun, and
the cacti bloom and the wild ‘wesach’
filled the air with their fragrance. And
far above was the infinite expanse, cloud
less and clear as a crystal, and not a
sound was there but the soft affectionate
“mowing" of the goats and the sad hiss
of the wind through the thorny mesquite.
Jamie Hacks waved his hat and cheered.
The sight of the sea brought back the
recollections of bis roving days, and the
great rolling plain running parallel with
the coast thrilled him.
“Ah, senorita, it is a piuture of peace
and liberty, and If It had but the sigh of
the pines in it now.”
The report of a gun not far distant
broke the stillness, then a clatter—clatter
of hoof beats—silence again.
Jamie Hacks dropped like a rock, pull
ing the girl with him.
"Down!” he whispered; “down! He’s
over to our left, back at the hut. And
if he comes our way he will take the
ravine, and—”
“The horse!” the girl almost sobbed;
“he will see the horse. Oh, blessed Madre,
save us!”
The man muttered something under big
breath—it came like a hiss—and the finger
on his gun trigger moved nervously.
“Take him back to the cave; it's not
far. Go!”
Hardly were the words out of his mouth
before the girl was up and gone. Two
minutes later the whlnney of a horse broke
on his ear. The man swore aloud. It
was old Bopps greeting the girl, and it
was an almost certainty that the Mexi
can soldier had heard it for there was
another report and the clatter again—
then silence. Crawling to the edge of the
declivity Jamie Hacks scanned the ravine
below and beyor.d. He saw the girl
and the horse disappear behind the great
bowlder that hid the mouth of the cave
from view. At the same time a horse
man dashed in sight at the far end of
the ravine and halted. A broad red sash
tied about the man’s waist and looped
over his left shoulder .burned like a flame
of tire in the sunlight. He was magnifi
cently dressed, and the horse under him
was as fine a charger as could be found
in the Mexican cavalry. At the sight of
him Jamie Hacks showed the white line
of his teeth in a smile of triumph. His
steel gray eyes fairly glittered, as might
some wild beast’s peering forth out of
it’s lair at It's prey. The American knew
him.
Was he not the same man who had
cast him in a foul prison at Monterey,
and was he not the man who had caused
him to be fed on bread- and water? And
more than that—and he trembled with rage
at the recollection—'gad not that very
man lashed him across the face with a
cow-hide when he was In shackles and
could not defend himself? And was lie
not the man, the leader, who, after Ills es
cape, had haunted him down as he might
a dog, and the man who was now on
his track to capture him and throw him
in a fouler dungeon? The refugee’s blood
was at the boiling point. And twice, as
the Mexican stood there, had Jamie
Hacks realized with a start that he was
aiming at the man and that his finger
was on the trigger.
Apparently the Mexican was looking
for someone, for with his hand shading
his eyes he was gazing down the ravine.
And when his eye caught sight of the
goats he put spurs in his steed and dash
ed recklessly down the narrow defile to
ward them. Then Jamie knew the object
of his errand, and he could have shot the
man in his anger. He was seeking the
girl. And as ill-fortune would have it he
caught sight of her just as she was
rounding the great rock on her return
from the cave. Jt was evident that sii •
had not heard the approaching rider, else
she would have remalnded in the cave
with the horse. With a leap the Mexican
was out of Ills saddle and at her side',
and the hiding man saw .him reach out
and take the girl by the arm and point
to the rock, then to the ground. Un
doubtedly his suspicions had been aroused
and he had detected the tracks of a horse
other than those of his own. and draw
ing Ills sword he made a dash around the
bowlder. There was a loud report, a ring
of circling smoke, and with sword hurled,
clattering to the ground, the Mexican
reeled and fell prone on the rocks, and
Jamie Hacks slipping from his hiding
place, rushed to the scene wifTi smoking
revolver in hand. It was a beautiful shot,
and no scout in the American army could
boast of a better and surer aim than was
that of Jamie Hacks. On reaching the
fallen man’s side he found that the bul
let had proven fatal. The man was al
ready dead. And crouching down beside
him the terror-stricken girl muttered a
prayer for the dead man and touched his
fore"head with the little black crucifix
which she wore about her neck.
“That will not save him,” said her
companion; "for God knows Ills sins are
(black and many. And even five minutes
ago it was in his mind to commit a deed
that would have only added to his crimes.
That was why he came alone. "Is he not
the one who struck your father?”
The girl looked up, wide eyed and won
dering. She did not understand.
"Yes,” she said.
“Of course!" Kneeling down beside her
he began a search through the man’s
clothing. He found nothing but a few
Mexican ’pesos’ (Mexican coins), which
he cast aside. There were no papers.
Brtt loath to give up the hunt he examined
the Mexican's saddle and found what he
sought, a sealed envelope sewed up in the
hollow of the saddle horn. To Jamie
Hacks it contained valuable news. It toid
that a foraging party of Americans, 30)
strong, and the ’rif-raf' and scum of the
army for the most part, who had come
out into the wild country to loot and steal
with little danger of being molested by
the Mexican soldiery, had been seen near
Carbo headed eastward toward Soyopa
near the Yaqui river. Hence, after a
three weeks' march they would again be
in the vicinity of Chihuahua and Mon
terey, where Jefferson Davis and Ampu-
dia had stationed their opposing armies,
or forces. Jamie Hacks calculated that
by hard riding he could meet them at
Ures, and In their company cross the
Sierra Madre mountains with comparative
safety. And of so pleasant a nature were
his meditations that he laughed out aloud
and cheered, "Viva los Unidas Estados!’
which means "Hurrah for the Fnited
States—and Jamie Hacks!” A plot
had hatched in his mind.
"You must dress in this fellow's
clothes,’’ he said to the girl; “disguise
yourself ns a mtm. A 1 '*, egad, when we
run upon the renegades at Ures I'll pro
claim you as a prisoner and proceed to
take you oh with the party until we
strike the American lines; then they’ll
make haste to hang you.”
"Holy mother,” said t!?e girl in a tone
of dismay.
"But Jamie Hacks will come in to save
you," he continued. "I owe that much
to you, anyhow. And after the war Is
over you'll be a princess in my land,
and Jack Hallinsworth will have the
chance to put you on canvas. Now, 1
hate to be so disrespectful to the greas
er' as to rob him of his—er—grave clothes,
but all’s fair in love and war, you know.
Buit to show that we appreciate his
timely appearance you might—er—trade
witli him, senorlta. Strikes me he would
make a shine in dresses, anyhow.”
"Holy mother!” said the gir.* thrice dis
mayed.
Jamie Hacks was an irreverent scoun
drel at his best, and telling the girl to
"vamoos” to the cave, he proceeded to
carry out his scheme, then carrying the
spoil to the entrance of the cave tossed
them in and demanded the girl's apparel
in exchange, which he gathered up by the
tip of his fingers and bore away. A few
minutes later Chacita made her appear
ance in her new attire. She cut a queer
figure, and Jamie Hacks, with a soft
whistle, said, “Faith on me, I never knew
the greaser’s togs had those curves iu
’em before. You make a fine soldier, but
1 fear me the renegades will know it,
too. But maybe when you are in saddle
you won’t look so—conspicuous!" Jamie
Hacks ended this speech with a roar.
The girl was all confusion, but a com
forting word or two had the effect of
soothing her immensely.
“Now, the hat,” he said. “So! It hides
your hair well. A little bangy under
the ears, eh; bat Jamie Hacks will reme
dy that"—and forthwith he produced a
■pair of pocket shears and made a neat
job of it. "And now the neck—it's too
soft and round for our good, cara mio.
'Bon my soul,'not in all my rovings have
I seen such a neck on . soldier, kelpie or
pirate. Egad, child, bungle it up, for it's
a rarity in its line; I'll leave it to every
Johnnie Bluecoat if it ain't. The boots
are fine uns, to‘o, but their fillings are
—sorter limpy, l*m thinking. And when
you stand on them they kpel to the lee
wards, then fo'wards again. Egad, it's
cargo they want—cargo! But, liarkee! it's
,no wind that s going to blow us to Jericho.
We must fight our own battle and over
come all obstacles, or we are lost. So
cheer up. Now mount your war horse
and see how the noble beast takes to ms
new master," and gathering in his w'eil
arm he literally lifted the girl in the
saddle, then leading his own animal front
the cave he mounted and rode up beside
her, the wallet of gold and jewels safely
stored in the saddle pouch again.
When the two rode up to the little
’3obe hut they foilnd old Antone, half
crazed with fright, crouched behind the
door. Hearing the approaching horses
and thinking that the soldjers had re
turned he had hidden himself under a
pile of bed clothing, and when Jamie
Hacks dragged him out into the light he
was kicking frantically and Jabbering
unintelligible sentences in Spanish.
“Vast there!” yelled his capturer; "je
mongrel. Hold your tongue and fetch us
rations for a week’s journey, and here’s
a bit of gold for your trouble.”
At the sight of the golden coins the
old man’s eyes glittered; he was all obei
sance in the twinkle of an eye, and still
mumbling to himself he began to cram
slits of ’dried goat flesh into a bag.
-you—no—Mex-hi-kan,” lie said. "Amer
icano, si! Allaways mocha dinero. Dla-
bl-la!” and catching sight of the girl
outside In the Mexican's . Jothes he shook
his fist at her and glared defiance. He
thought he had recognized his enemy who
had given him such a cruel tap on the
head the night before. Jamie Hacks
chuckled with satisfaction. The old man
had no idea that it was his “mi mueha-
cha” who stood before him in disguise,
and when the two rode away he stood in
his doorway and waved them adioT And
then he sat down and with a luxurious
yawn closed his eyes, thinking that when
the *ni muchacha” came he would make
the sign and a fire would be made and
a supper cooked.
Prominent People ®.
Odd E-vents
Governor Crane, of Massachusetts, dis
likes public speaking and, though he is
always interesting in his addresses, he
considers the necessity for their delivery
one of the most trying features of public
life.
Mr. Balfour, the new British premier,
nearly always stands while writing or
studying. For many years.he has worked
at a tall desk, on which ho keeps two
candles, so as to be ready for the dark
days so common in T/ondon.
J. D. Wood, a rancher of Spencer,
Idaho, has sent to Boston the largest con
signment of wool ever shipped hv one
man from the west to the east. Tt
amounted to about 630.000 pounds, which
at 14 cents per pound yielded Mr. Wood
nearly $88,000.
Bret Unrte, during the last months of
his life, gave much lime and care to the
composition of the libretto of an opera.
The composer was Emanuel Moor, and
‘the subject of the work, which has not
yet been heard, was taken from the
story of “Alkali Dick.” The scene is laid
in France.
A New York actor has in his possession
a sword which in 19'X) was presented to
General Smith, of the New York national
guard, to Putnam Brndlee Strong, who is
now in unenviable prominence in conn°c-
tlon with May Vnhe. The sword, a very
hnndsome weapon, was purchased by the
actor from a pawnbroker.
Prince Henry of Prussia is insured
against assassination. The pc-llcy Is for
$900,1X10, which Sum Is not payable in case
of death from any other cause than that
stipulated. The prince entered into this
peculiar insurance arrangement whpn he
sailed for the east to take command of
the German fleet in Chinese waters a few
years ago.
The Tate Bord Acton, whose remarkable
range of scholarship was little known to
the pyh'lic until attention was called to
it in his obituaries, had in his Bondon
house a collection of sonic 60,000 hooks,
many of them old and rare. Joseph
Chamberlain at one time rented the house
by the season, and when he left to go
into a house of his nwn. some one said
to him that he must miss a fine library.
“Dibrary,” replied the member from
Brummagem. "I don't call that a library.
It doesn't contain a single book of ref
erence.”
One of the oldest families In England Is
the Wake family, of Courteenhall, North
amptonshire, which for nine centuries
has had as its head a Hereward Wake,
in clfar descent from father to son. Ev
ery male child receives as one of his
names the famous cognomen Hereward.
the family tracing its name straight hack
to "Hereward. the Wake,’ whom Chari-s
Kingsley named "the last of the Sax
ons." The head of the family today is
Sir Hereward Wake, whose eldest son
won the D. S. O. on Bord Roberts' staff
in South Africa,
New York Times: General Fred Grant
a few months ago received a letter which
he showed to his army friends In Bnzon
as a joke at his own expense, and which
therefore may be properly promulgated.
The general's son, U. S. Grant III, is
a end'd at West Point, now a first class
man and cadet adjutant. But earlier in
his course his father became anxious
about him and imparted his anxiety by
mail from the Philippines to a professor
in the academy, a contemporary of his
own. begging him to send exact and con
fidential information as to the cadet's
standing. The answer, which relieved
his anxiety, was as follows:
"Dear Fred: You needn't worry The
boy stands higher in everything than you
ever did in anything.”
It used to be a common saying among
Chicago newspaper men that more
“fakes" came from Indiana than from
any other state, and yet the Chicago
newspapers always seem willing to father
any wild story that came from that won-
dcrful country whore every other person
is an author of distinction and the rest
of the people are press agents for their
native writers. Now comes the tale that,
when Booth Tarkington takes his seat in
the Indiana legislature he will propose a
bill calling for an annual appropriation
on the pnrt of the state of $500 for a prize-
to the Indiana authors of the best litera
ture during the preceding year. Mr. Tnrg-
ington has not yet taken his seat, indeed
he has not yet been elected, though the
fact of his election is generally conceded,
but It Is likely that some of his Indian
apolis friends invented the story about
him. A number of Indiana authors ITave
been asked seriously for their opinions on
the matter and most of them are against
any such plan.
Lyman Glover in Chicago Record-TIer-
ald: Henry W. Savage, the president of
the Castle Square Opera Company, is a
busy man these days. The company will
have six organizations playing through
out the country the coming season, and
as all of them are musical, the companies
will be large ones, necessitating the em
ployment of many people. As a matte-
of fact Mr. Savage will have between six
and seven hundred persons In his employ
Tliere will be two companies plaving
"King Dodo," one playing "The Prince of
Filsen," one playing “The Sultan of
Sulu,” one playing “Peggy from Paris ”
and the Castle Square Opera Company
which confines itself to the production of
grand and standard operas in English.
This is doing remarkably well f or a
gentleman who but a few years ago was
engaged In the real estate business and
possessed no acquaintance with theatrical
affairs. Accident rather than anv special
choice carried him into the field for which
he has exhibited so much aptitude, and
now he ranks among the Important pro
ducing managers of this country.