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ZEN of the Y. D.
A Novel of the Foothills
By ROBERT STEAD
Author ol "The Cow Puncher"—“The Homesteader,”—"Neighbors.” etc.
Copr^'ROBERT
CHAPTER XVll—Continued.
—2o—
vou have, and it basn t spoiled
JOB a bit. Oh, it didn’t take me long
to run you down. But I didn’t go
breezin’ up to your house, like I might
- ve done if I hadn’t been considerate
of you. I didn’t want no scandal about
It on your account. s*o 1 Just laid
low for awhile. That is bow I found
out about Grant.”
“About Grant? Wlmt did you find
out about Mr. Grant?”
He made to draw her closer to him,
but she held him at bay. ‘‘Oh, you’re
innocent, ain't you, Zen? Wlmt about
Grunt? That’s a good one. Your hus
band would enjoy that!”
“If you’re going to talk to me like
this we can’t be friends, Mr. Drazk.”
(Still no sign of help). “My friends
mustn't think evil of me.”
Drazk laughed. “They say a friend
is one who knows ull about you and
loves you just the same,” lie leered.
“That’s me, Zen. I know all about
you —you and this Grant fellow. How
he's been visitin’ you when your hus
band was uway, und sometimes when
the maid was away, too. I’ve kept
pretty close tab on him. Hasn't been
coinin' around so often lately. Well,
true love never did run smooth. Now
I could tell your husband all tills, and
perhaps I ought to; Trarisley and me
Is old friends, worked together for
years, but I ain’t that kind of a fellow.
You see, Zen, I know all about you,
and I love you Just the same. I love
you—Just—the samel”
Be forced her toward him, and she
knew that She had spun~out her re
prieve to its end. She was In the pow
er of this madman. She tried to
break from his grasp, but her efforts
were puny and wasted agaihst his
passionate strength. She struck out
wildly, but he crushed down her
blows; wrapped his arras about hers;
drew her face to his.
“I came to collect an account, Zen,”
lie hissed, “and now you are goln’—to
pay I”
CHAPTER XVIII
Transley, returning by nn earlier
train than he had, expected, found
Sarah at the house and Wilson en
gaged In dialogue with the family pig.
The lad, on hearing the motor, rushed
to his father’s arms.
“Well, well, what u big boy you are 1"
cried Transley, swinging him up to
his shoulders. “And how is the pig?
And how Is your friend ..Grant ?”
“Mother hasn’t let me go to see him
lately. I don’t know why., Ever since
the night I slept at his house—”
"You slept at his house? When?"
“The day you went away. And
mother was there In the morning—”
“Wilson, where Is your mother?”
“I don't know, daddy.”
He strode sharpiy Into the house.
“Sarah, where Is Mrs. Transley?”
“I don’t know, sir," said the maid.
Then, frightened out of her reticence
by her master’s unusual severity —“I
think she has gone to the old quarry,
sir. She often goes up there of an
afternoon."
“A trystlng-plaee!” Transley gasped
Inwardly. He dropped (he boy and,
his own room, found a revolver and
cartridges. A moment later he was
swinging In long, angry steps up the
quarry road. Wilson, puzzled by the
sudden Interruption of his father’s
preetlng, followed at a discreet dis
tance.
"I've suspected—l’ve suspected,"
Trnr.sley was raging ns he walked;
"I’ve suspected —more than I’ve said.
*>ive ’em enough rope. That’s my plan.
And now they’ve taken It. By God, If
they have!”
" ith every step the wrath and hor
ror within him grew. lie was at the
Quarry before he knew It. He paused
a moment to listen. Yes, there
Were people present. There were
sounds—God, It sounded like a fight I
Transley rushed In. A man and a
w oman were reeling In ench other’s
RrTns - "i hate yon 1 I hate you !” the
was crying. “Yon coward!
ou coward 1” The woman was his
„ p The man was—not Dennison
Brant.
APhough Transloy had a revolver In
• * hooket It was not his customary
Wen P° n ' and his thought did not turn
jjaturally to It. In this tremendous
J' r ' he forgot it altogether. He
r ,' s,lP '; upon Ills wife’s' assailant,
C ,1.. ! ng him about the throat.
- f he strength of a madman
flung Zen to the ground, where
. " * l ' l unconscious at his feet. Then
“ ’ r o himself free from Transient's
’’out his throat. The next mo
te e ,wo men w ere swavlng about
“ a of death.
As they swung In each other’s arms,
crushing, choking, clutching at each
other’s throats, it was slowly forced
home upon Transley that his was a
losing fight. His assailant had the
strength, and, after a hesitating mo
ment of surprise, the ferocity of a
lion. He had broken Transley’s first
grip of advantage about his throat
and seemed in momentary prospect of
reversing the situation. There were
no talk, no cries, no oaths; It was a
silent fight save the grunting and
pnnting which became more and more
labored as the minutes drew on. In
their clutches Drazk’s stubbled face
rubbed into Transley’s well-groomed
cheek; his snarling teeth snapped, but
missed, at Transley’s Jaw.
Then it was that Transley remem
bered his revolver. Breaking Druzk’s
grip by a superhuman effort, he drew
the weapon and fired. The shot went
wild, and the next instant Drazk was
upon him again. In the struggle the
revolver fell from Transley’s hand, and
both men began fighting toward it. As
Drazk’s fingers clutched It Transley
kicked bis feet from under him, and
the two went down together. Rolling
about on the rocky floor of the quarry
they approached, slowly, unconscious
ly, the edge of the precipice that fell
away to the river.
On tiie very edge Transley realized
this new and hideous danger, and
scrambled to his feet, dragging Drazk
with him. Drazk realized It, too, and
gleefully, fiendishly Joined again In the
combat, deliberately forcing the fight
toward the river.
“I’ve got you, Transley I” he hissed,
speaking for the first time since
Trnnsley’s fingers had. clutched about
his throat; “I’ve got you, and you’re
goln’ over there —with me. Zen tried
to drown me once; now I’ll drown you,
If I have to go with you. I’ve got you.
Transley!"
“Drazkl” Transley exclaimed, a
light of recognition breaking upon him.
"You 1"
“Yes, me —Zen’s old lover, and you
give her to me, or we go out together I”
“You’re mad, Drnzk, mad 1" Transley
cried. “Why-"
But at that moment Drnzk, by a
sudden contortion, whipped a knife
The Next Moment the Two Men Were
Swaying About In a Struggle Of
Death.
from his pocket. Transley felt Its
sting—once, twice, three times; then
darkness fell. Zen, recovering from
her stun, sat up In time to see her
husband staggering In the arms of
Drazk.
Half a mile away Dennison Grant
had been lazily plowing up and down
his prairie field when he suddenly saw
Wilson approaching at his topmost
speed. Since the night of the storm he
had missed the boy tremendously;
sometimes he had thought that If only
he might have the companionship of
Wilson he could be reconciled to the
loss of Zen. He knew that n veto had
hoen placed on Wilson’s visits, and he
bore Zen no ill will; he felt that he
understood her motives. But now, as
the boy came racing toward him.
Grant felt Ids heart bouncing about In
un extraordinary manner.
“Why, what’s the matter?” Grant
cried as Wilson drew up beside him.
“Has something happened to the pig?’
It was a moment before the boy
could speak.
•<A man —Is —fighting my—father—
and shooting at him,” he gasped.
“And my mother’s —dead I”
THE DANIELSVILLE MONITOR, DANIELSVILLE, GEORGIA.
Grant cleared the plow at a bound.
“Where?” he demanded.
"At the old quarry. I ran all the
way.”
But Grant was already stripping the
harness from Prince. The next mo
ment he had Hung himself upon the
horse’s back, and, leaving the boy to
follow ns he could, was galloping
across the prairie to the quarry trail.
Under his urging the astonished plow
horse developed a quite surprising
speed; in n couple of minutes they
were on the old road to the quarry,
and a moment later horse and rider
dnshed Into the rock-rimmed cut which
overhung the river.
Grant's first glimpse was of Zen; she
had struggled to her feet; thank God,
she was not dead. Then he saw the
two men by the edge of the cliff;
Transley he recognized; saw the knife
rise and strike—
The blow Grant landed In Drazk’s
face sent that gentleman spinning like
a top. Like a top, too, Drazk wobbled
at the end of his spin; wobbled over
the edge of the precipice, and dropped
out of sight.
Grant fell on his knees beside the
stricken Transley; leaned over; raised
the quivering form In his arms. Zen,
beside him, drew the sorely mangled
head to her breast and whispered
words of endearment Into ears soon
closing to all mortal sounds. . . .
Presently Transley opened his eyeA.
They weje sane, quiet eyes now; the
fight was over; only the eternities lay
ahead.
"Grant—tell me one thing," he mur
mured. “You have been straight—
with Zen?’
“As God hears me,” Grant an
swered.
For an Instant the eyes of the rivals
—and friehds—met; rivals no longer;
friends only, forever. Then the form
of Transley shivered in the arms of
Zen and Dennison Grant 1 shivered, and
settled Into eternal sleep.
•••■ • • • •
The sun of anettre? summer was
flooding the towny flanks of the foot
hills when Zen and Dennison Grant
rode together over the old trail to the
Y.D. Since Transley' death-Grant had
not spoken to Zen of love; he seemed
to know that at the proper time Zen
herself would break silence. And now
she hnd usked him to accompany her
to her father's* home, and to spend a
few days roaming their old haunts In
the foothills.
Y.D., older, but In unimpaired vigor,
greeted him boisterously';, “Wqll, well,
you old coyotel -Had. to .oome back to
the hills! They all do. If J. was a
young man again I’d get. mo a herd o’
heifers an* trek Into the back country,
spite o’ hell an’ high watet—"'
The greeting of the rancher’s wife
was less effusive, but no less sincere.
The evening was spent lr hospitality.
The next afternoon Zen appeared at #
the gate with horses saddled for two.
"Come, Denny, we are going for a
ride,” she announced, “and In a few
minutes their mounts were pounding
down the trail which led over the foot
hills to the South Y.D.
Zen was strangely silent upon their
ride, and Grant, nfter futile attempts
to engage her In conversation, was
content to ride at her 14a and adrglre
her horsemanship and her beauty. The
Astronomer of Vermont Has Telescope in Cave
Going underground to look at the
heavens may seem like a strange anom
aly; yet that Is the method used by
Janies Hartness. former governor of
Vermont, noted Inventor and manufac
turer and amateur astronomer.
On his hillside estate at Springfield,
Vt Mr. Hartness has constructed the
strangest astronomical observatory In
the world—a subterranean cave of
concrete, containing rooms fitted up
as a laboratory, office, study and re
tiring and storage rooms, says the Kan
sas City Times. Connecting with his
home by 8 200-foot tnnnel, the cave
ends with the observation chamber, a
concrete structure from which Juts a
cast-iron revolving turret that holds
the telescope.
This observatory, says Popular Sci
ence Monthly, Is little short of revolu
tionary from the standpoint of the or
thodox astronomer. In fact, astrono
mers and makers of astronomical in
struments. when they saw-Mr, Hart
ness’ plans, assured him that his ob
servatory would be a failure, that air
currents rising from his heated tur
ret would obscure the skies from the
eye of the telescope. But Mr. Hart
ness, father of more than one hun
suffering and the years had left her
strangely unsenrred; she seemed to
Grnht wholly as adorable as on that
day of her unspoken confession when
they had met at the ford. Soon she
must speak I Well, he had waited; he
still could wait.
They followed the trail, little
cliunged by all the passage of years,
down the slopes to the South Y.D.
They forded the river, and Zen swung
her horse about In the grove of cotton
woods.
“You remember this spot, Denny?”
she asked. “It Is where we first met.”
“I remember," he said. No, he would
not be tempted into a demonstration.
She must lead.
The sun was gilding the mountain
tops with gold, and gilding, too, Zen’s
fnce and lmlr with beauty Ineffable.
For a moment she sat in the slanting
light like a statue of bronze. For an
Instant her eys met his; then fell. She
spurred her horse to a plunge and gal
loped ahead up the valley.
Miles passed, and the quick twi
light of the foothills was upon them
before she drew up ugaln. This time
It was by a great bowlder, a sort of
flat rock stranded on the sloping
shoulder of a hill. Something seemed
to burst In Grunt’s throat us he rec
ognized It—the rock on which they
bad spent that memorable night so
long ago when the world and they
were young 1 Thnnk God, Zen was
young still! Romance burned In ner
heart —who but Zen would have
thought of this?
He sprang from his horse, and she
from hers. He approached her with
open arms.
“Zen —you have brought me here
for a purpose I Don’t deny ltl I un
derstand 1”
She was In his arms. “How well
you read one’s mind,” she uiurmbred.
“But oh. how slowly!”
He held her tight. Thero were
worlds to Bay, but he could whisper
only “Zen—my Zen," into the tungled
glory of her hair.
At length she held him gently away.
“I believe someone Is coming up the
trail,” she said.
It was true enough; a horse and
rider were rapidly approaching. As
he skirted the hill he caught sight of
them, swung off from the trail and
rode up beside them.. ;
“Ah, here you are I” he exclaimed.
“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting, Mrs.
Transley?”
“You arc punctuality Itself,” Zen
said, as she took his hnnd. “You
haven’t met Mr. Grant? Denny, this
Is Mr. Munroe —the reverend Mr.
Munroe.”
“The reverend I What 1 How l Zen,
explain things I”
“Very simple. Mr. Munroe was to
meet us here at eight. It’s eight
o’clock, and here he Is.”
Zen was unstrapping a kit from her
saddle. “I have a document here —If
I haven’t lost it —which will Interest
Mr. Munroe. Ah, here It Is!"
She produced nn envelope, and Mr.
Munroe examined the contents. “Seems
all in ordsr,” he remnrked. “A
license authorizing the marriage of
Dennison Grunt and Zenith Transley.
This rock should make a very ac
ceptable pulpit. Suppose, Mr.-Grant,
you take tills woman’s hand In yours
and stand before me?"
It was dark when the minister, hav
ing completed the ceremony and shared
In the supper which Zen produced from
a saddlebag, said a hearty adieu and
turned his horse’s head down tho val
ley. Dennison und Zen listened to the
pounding of hoofs until It died out In
the distance. Then the tremendous,
the immeasurable silence of the hills
wrapped them all about, folded them
In Its friendly arms, fondled and
caressed them on the threshold of
their new life. . . .
After awhile the moon came up,
white and glorious, as It had that night
so many years before.
(THE END.]
dred Important Inventions, built the
observatory as he planned and It has
proved successful.
“When I first took up astronomy,"
says Mr. Hartness, “I found there
were certain inconveniences connected
with looking through the telescope I
hnd mounted on my lawn. In the
warm weather there were mosquitoes.
In the fall and winter the cold winds
chilled me to the bones. So I built
my underground laboratory for self
protection, and I found I was helped
rather than hampered by my lack of
technical knowledge of approved meth
ods.”
Was It a Hint?
Elderly Husband —There goes Mrs.
Smith. Hasn’t she lost her husband
lately?
Young Wife —Yes, poor thing. I
really believe black would be becom
ing to me, also, George.
Character
Character Is bounded on the north
by Industry, on the east by Integrity,
on the south by morality and on tha
west by sobriety.
CAP m %
ANO^S
BF.I I .S I®
FACING WRONG WAY
In Arkansas a man and his wife
were sitting outside their house when
n funeral procession passed. The man
was comfortably seated In a chair that
was tilted back towards the street, Ills
feet on the sill of an open window.
"I think that’s the funeral of ol’ man
Williams,” he remarked. “Reckon It’s
the biggest seen in these parts for a
while, ain’t It, Car’ltne?”
“A purty good-sized one, Bud," his
wife replied.
“I sure would like to see it,” said
Bud. "What u pity I alnt’ facin’ that
way I”
Suppose He Didn’t
Terry, riding with Tim In the lat
ter’s motor car, began to worry as
they ap; cached a grade crossing
neck ami neck with an express train.
“Wouldn’t ye better stop and let
her go by first?” he asked.
“Aw,, wlint’3 the matter wld ye?”
demanded Tim. “Can’t ye see the
sign tel I In’ the Ingineer to look out
for tIT cars?”—Capper’s Weekly.
Ignition
The fOrce \yns out to
the bookkeeper alone In the store. A
handsome young chap strode In. “Do
they keep automobile' accessories
here?” he asked.
The little bookkeeper smiled her
sweetest.. “drily .me," she replied.—
Good Hardware.
Taking No Chancea
Click—l never knew such a fuss?
man. / ‘ *'
Clack—What’s he done now?
Click—He so*ld his plot In the ceme
tery because (hey burled a man who
died of contagious disease too near It
—American Legion Weekly.
AT THE BIER
"You say he- was 1 no believer In
signs?”
“Couldn’t ha we been—drove full tilt
right by one' .marked ‘Danger—s3fmr
up/” ' \ . ,
Investments >
In this, a period of. unrest
,-And curious Irritation,
It's KCwlntf harder to Invest
Without investigation.
Public School Democracy
Asks a correspondent of Doc Brad?:
“How long before my hoy can go
out after measles.”
“The boy doesn’t have to go out
after measles. Just give him a seat
in school and they will come to him.”
—Detroit News.
The Specialist
Enraged Father (at top of stairs,
2:30 a. in.)— All right, Maud! I only
say It’s a pity he doesn’t know how to
say good night.
Maml (from below) —Oh, doesn’t he,
though? tfou ought to come and take
a look.
True to Form
Tom—l hear that Ted has had an
accident.
Bob —Yes; someone gave him a
tiger cub and told him It would eat off
his hand.
“Well?"
“It did!’’
LIGHT ENOUGH
“How could you two see where yon
were going in the durk?”
“My dear, Bob was fairly glowing
with delight!”
Two Heads
Wh*n he proposed he lost his head.
Which fact he uulckly told her.
She didn't mind, for she Instead
Put her head on his shoulder.