Newspaper Page Text
r Flame
of the
Border
By
i VINGIE E. ROE
Copyright,
Doubleday, Doran & Co., Inc.
WNU Service
CHAPTER XII —Continued
— 15 —
He was leaning forward now, search¬
ing the girl’s face with boring eyes to
catch the faintest change, the slight¬
est flicker of betrayal.
"I did not, senor,” she said.
“Urn," said El Diablo savagely,
“and when you so quickly stooped and
picked from the floor that smajl brass
can which Senor Parks dropped from
his pocket, you still did not know
what you were finding?"
“No,” said Sonya, “and would not
now if Manuel there had not told the
Senora about It—called It a five-tael
can of 'black molasses.”’
Manuel leaped from his seat, talking
swiftly, facing his master. And some¬
where behind her a woman stifled a
scream. But Diablo was on his feet,
his fist on the table.
“So!” he thundered, “my people talk
behind me, do they? They mention
tiiat which is never to be mentioned?
I shall deal with you—and you, senora
—later. Now bring me Quince.”
At that Sonya felt the world go
round for one terrible second. She
clutched the chair back tightly.
And from somewhere at the right
there came the sound of marching
feet, the swift step of men obeying a
master. Through the dappled shade cast
by the poplar trees five figures moved
Into her line of vision, four who walked
abreast In twos and In their midst a
fifth—Starr Stone as she had seen
him last. In cowboy boots and dun¬
garees belted at his lean hips, a faded
denim shirt. He had no hat, and his
bronze head shone In the light like
gold, and he had not shaved for days.
He was haggard and his eyes were
large In his tanned face, and his arms
were bound behind him. He was a
prisoner with all a prisoner's indigni¬
ties heaped upon him, but his tall
form was erect, his blue eyes dark
with the spreading pupils. He strode
toward the table with his gaze set on
Dlablo’s face and saw no other In the
silent mass.
“Senor,” he said.
“Senor,” said El Capltan, and the
smile was gone from his face. It was
black with rising fury.
“For five years, Quince, you have
been with me—my best and ablest
man. You have done my bidding
quickly. You have led my raids. You
have put my — merchandise — safely
through its secret ways. 1 have called
andyou have come,always. Always until
lately. Lately you have come on laggard
feet. You have held back at my or¬
ders. You have disobeyed me. And
I have now the reason. That reasoD
Is a woman. A woman whom you have
set before El Capitan Diablo. Whose
word has been more to you than my
word. Who, through your Instruction
doubtless, has come upon the key of
my activities. Who has caught Qua-
tro with the goods In his own store.
Who holds Diablo and all his future
In the hollow of her hand. Or would
so hold him had It not been for Qua-
tro's swift action In the matter. Senor
—behold the woman 1”
He had half risen again, leaning
with one broad hand on the table.
With the other he pointed dramatical¬
ly to Sonya. And like a flash Starr
Stone whirled and saw her.
It was the first Inkling he had had
that she was not safe In her own coun¬
try, about her own pursuits, and the
shock of it drained his face to a ghast¬
ly pallor.
“Sonya 1” his lips formed sound¬
lessly.
“Yes,” said the girl defiantly, “they
took me from my horse two nights
ego—kidnaped me—by airplane—and
brought me here because I stumbled
on the fact that Parks is their agent
In the smuggling of narcotics across
the line. They think you told me—
that you and I have planned to double-
cross this wicked hundit here—this
beast who says I’m lying!”
She waved a hand at El Capltan,
nodded her black head toward him.
‘‘Ah! A beast, am I? El Capltan
Diablo a beast?"
“Yes, senor—and worse,” said Sonya
Savarin. “You may kill me—as I do
not doubt you will—but I am an Amer¬
ican, and I do not hend to you, either
* n body or soul. We are both Ameri¬
cans."
“Oh, Americans! And Americans do
not double-cross?”
“No, senor.”
Well, we shall see. Quince—atten¬
tion. What do you say for yourself?”
*he tall man standing In the mnt-
tled shade looked long In his master’s
R ce. What years of wrongdoing, of
obedience, of fear, were in that look
‘ Oij they two might say. For a long
tir ue it held between the wild blue
eyes, the deadly black ones.
Fhen starr Stone turned to Sonya.
Sonya," he said distinctly, “once I
t'il you that a leopard could not
change his spots. A little later 1 told
H'U that my inner self had changed,
JJ'at had all my changed desires, with my outlook on
knowing you.
DADE COUNTY TIMES: NOVEMBER 29, 1934
I longed to prove It to you. You said
you wanted no proof. The time has
/tome to give It to you. There Is noth¬
ing left for me to want on this round
earth but your faith in me. I told
you once that I have been a man of
violence. I have been, God forgive me.
and what had happened. The events
of the last tragic days stood sharply
out before her.
“A misstep In my early youth—It
doesn’t matter now what It was—put
me in the power of El Capitan Diablo.
For my freedom's sake 1 cast In my
lot with him. For uiy life’s sake I
could neter leave him afterward. I
have raided, burned, and pillaged, but
I have never killed a man nor harmed
a woman or a child. I have been his
brains in smuggling, his ablest lieu¬
tenant, as he says. But now I’m
through.
“With death as my sure reward for
what I’m saying, I say here and now,
before these witnesses, that 1 am done
forever. Done with all wrong and all
evil. That the leopard changes his
spots at last. For the love of you In
my soul 1 am made over new. They
will kill me soon, and I hope they’ll
send you with me with all my heart—
though hell Itself can hold no torture
for me to compare with the knowledge
that I have brought you to this. That
will be more punishment than my lost
soul can bear. Oh, Sonya, forgive me
for what I’ve done to you."
“Forgive you?” panted the girl, half
sobbing. “Forgive you? 1 glory In
you 1 And we’ll go together, never
fear! If not one way, then another.
It will not be a long good-by, I promise
you.”
“Soul’s covenant," said Starr Stone.
“Soul’s covenant,” she answered.
But here El Capltan leaped to his
booted feet, his fist on the table again.
“It will not?" he rasped. “You think
it will not? Carramba! El
Diablo has yet the final word. You
to the winds and the vultures, Quince,
and may you remember many things
in the—the interval.
“You," he turned to Sonya and
leveled a finger at her, “1 give to that
one among my men who rises to this
Quince's empty place. Manuel, my
compliments, the lady. 1 believe you
like a white-skinned woman with curls
in the hair. And after you—the rest.
And that, as they say across the Bor¬
der, is that. Take them both away.”
The four men moved to surround
their prisoner, the marching feet
passed swiftly, and Sonya watched the
tall bronze head go out of the shade
into the sun—around a corner.
The world and all It held turned
dark before her just as the senora
reached out a motherly arm.
She dimly heard Manuel saying,
“Careful, senora, careful—she is mine."
CHAPTER XIII
Love's Sacrifice.
When she opened her eyes again It
was dusk in the deep-walled room, and
she lay on the ancient bed. For a
while she lay In a sort of stupid
peace, gathering her faculties, which
seemed to have been scattered to the
four winds.
And then suddenly the values of life
dropped Into their appointed places,
like the brilliant colors In a kaleido¬
scope, and she knew where she was
and what had happened.
El Capitan had spoken, and she was
still a prisoner, the property of a dap¬
per Mexican bandit with predatory
eyes and laughing, thin lips, Manuel
the aviator. And Starr Stone was
gone—oh, heaven 1 Gone to that
ghastly fate which lurked In the
poignant words, “you to the winds and
the vultures.” The wild blue eyes
that had darkened and changed under
the mandates of life, the long hands
with their tender touch, the lips so
warm upon her ow ? n 1
Sonya leaped to her feet and paced
the old room like a tigress caged,
striking her hands together, her soul
dying within her. The young lieuten¬
ant had said, “Careful—she Is mine,”
and he stood next to the master now.
His word was law beneath that other’s,
and no one would disobey.
And presently the senora came pad¬
ding softly to the door on heavy feet,
for she was old and excellently fed,
and entered to her kindly ministra¬
tions.
Sonya whirled and faced her, her
dark eyes burning in the shadows.
"Senora,” she said desperately,
“Have pity on me! Can you not help
me? A knife, senora—with my next
meal—left on the tray? In the name
of that holy Woman whom you wor¬
ship, please, senora!"
"I cannot, child,” she answered
gently. “Manuel would kill me. Come,
let me wash your sweet white body
with fresh water. And there is per¬
fume. and a woman’s clothes to dress
you in—a scarlet dress, and golden
shoes for your feet. To night you rest
—Manuel’s orders—but tomorrow you
wear these things for him. You must
forget."
Forget! and the wind!
Pdr^ct—the vultures
Forget the stars, the soft winds blow¬
ing, the creak of leather, and Starr
Stone’s hand on hers laid on her pom¬
mel 1 She turned from the old woman
and began again her interminable
walk, the striking of her hands to¬
gether. It was a mechanical action
which somehow seemed to hold her
brain from snapping, to keep her
searching for a way to end it all.
She would not let the senora wash
her. nor accept the silken bed gown
which she now produced. She shook
her head, pushed her away.
“If you have within you, senora,”
she said piteously, “any remnant of a
woman's pity for another woman lost
to all the light of life, leave me to
fight It out alone. Leave me now.”
For a long time the other stood and
watched her, calculating, then sodded
and turned away.
“I have not forgotten—for thirty
years,” she said cryptically. “You
shall have your night, querlda."
But she stopped with her hand on
the great Iron latch and surveyed the
room completely for any sharp thing,
any pointed thing, any place where
one might tie a rope—of bedclothes,
say. Finding none of these, she
opened the door and went silently
away.
The sound or the bolt falling echoed
In the empty passage.
So. This was the end. Not forever
could they keep her in this barren
room. Sooner or later she would have
the means. She only prayed It might
he soon—before she must wear the
scarlet dress for Manuel. There must
be something hidden somewhere with
which one could slash a vein In so
slight a thing as a woman’s wrist.
The bed, perhaps, A spring under
the huge tick filled with feathers,
maybe. But the bed was old when the
land was new, and It was laced with
rawhide so steel-like, hard, and dry
that it had outlasted centuries.
It was as hopeless as the greht bars
In the window set in the ancient mud
of the walls.
And Sonya Savarin, who had guard¬
ed life so well, now stood at bay, hold¬
ing her breath, pondering desperately
how she might destroy it.
If only she had her bags 1 Her little
case of instruments! But she had
nothing—and Starr Stone was dying
now, perhaps, or would tomorrow.
There was nothing left to do, no
foes to face with lifted head, no
schemes of hope to make whom
she might coax to IWj; ’
And so at last S g ex-
hausted all her ,5, fcant at
best In this terriijjj ’on, made
ready to bow in rest* She
knelt by the ancient which
no doubt seen trage 1- / »r‘_
folding her hands ado
to its Maker in sorro\V
How long she knelt ■
afterward could recall
prayed, weeping, ft\
which had so grlevodj
days, anck these we"*
ly throne, begging for
the eleventh hour whic!
vinely promised; Vmet,
and Lila and llWft
Darkness. For hersi
favor. It had
her. Service to me?
fort for all sulf ihings, had 7
her passionate 1 ?
Of herself she thought "“5
least, of Starr Stone most.
days If only they had met in tliose'?^
of which he spoke, before ■
one misstep had put hlmdn El Diab. V
pow r er, made him an outlaw, a Bordei
renegade. When the sweetness, the
kindness In him had been paramount.
Before sin and wrong had put the
leopard spots upon him.
But the spots were changed at last
when it was too late. To his face he
had repudiated El Capitan, signed his
own death warrant, for anyone leaving
the dark service of this monstrous
bandit put himself “on the spot" as
truly as any in more modern places.
And he had done it deliberately, to
prove to her that he was changed,
even to the death. The courage which
had shone In his face In that repudia¬
tion had been magnificent. He knew,
none better, the fate of El Dlablo’s
double-crossers, and he double-crossed
him high-handedly and with supreme
finality.
“Oh, Starr!” wept Sonya with her
forehead on her clasped hands. “Oh,
my man of all men 1 My one and only
love 1”
In the warm dark silence the heart
In her seemed to melt In anguish, the
tides of life to run swiftly out.
For her It was the ebb of finite
things, the last low hour before th a
end. In a dull coma of hopelessness,
her face swollen with weeping, she
sank lower and lower against the great
bed, her lips apart, her black head
disheveled.
And Into this last deep abyss there
dropped a tiny sound.
So low and soft it was that Sonya
was not conscious of It until it had
repeated itself several times—the al¬
most Inaudible scrape of metal against
metal.
The outside bolt, huge and heavy,
slipping slowly in Its slot!
With her breath caught in her throat
Sonya Savarin listened.
After a tense Interval It came again,
and the gentle creaking of the great
door on Its hinges.
Instinctively the girl shrank back
against the bed.
Manuel I
Manuel, her master I
She stifled a scream on her open
mouth, her hand across It
And then a voice, whispering Into
the darkness, a breath of a voice a»
lovely as music, said “Senorita!”
She could not speak, and again It
whispered, “Senorita?”
“SI," said Sonya, gasping, “I am
here."
There was the murmur of a movlns
form, and Concha knelt carefully be
side her. Sonya reached out and
touched her incredibly, but the girl
drew sharply from the contact.
“Attend,” she said, "if you are brave
—are you so, senorita?”
“I am very brave," said Sonya
simply.
“Then listen. You I hate from mj
soul’s bottom—I could strike you now
with my two hands—but there is—an¬
other. whom I love. Oh, Mary Moth
er! Love.’’’ she said as If to her In
ward seif. She stopped a moment
then went on.
“If you can follow me without s
sound there is—a hope. Can jot
walk so?"
TO BE CONTINUED,
On the
Funny
Side
pr.
CRITICISM
“IVImt do you think of the critics
of your plan?"
“I resent them," answered Senator
Sorghum.
“Haven’t they any good ideas?”
“Oh, yes. I may utilize some of
them. Nevertheless, I don’t propose
to encourage the nerve they show in
expressing them.”
Encouragement
At an English theater they were
playing "The Forty Thieves,” and as
the company numbered only eight,
the entry of the robbers into the
cave was achieved by their passing
.back of the stage and en-
at the front,
itel.v one of the robbers
Lth a limp, and when he
1 five times a voice from
cried: “Stick it, Hoppy;
Disappointment
“So you are going home," said the
kindly stranger to the wanderer. “I
suppose they will kill the fatted call**
for you?”
"Yes, that’s the worst of It,” re¬
plied the wanderer sourly; “I am on
a diet and can’t eat any meat.”—
Pathfinder Magazine.
Quaint Forms
“George Washington had quaint
forms of speech,’’ remarked the stu¬
dious person.
“Yes,” said Miss Cayenne. “But
wouldn’t George say the same of us
If lie could hear some of the things
that go on over the radio.”
Warning
Mrs. B.—What made yon count
your change so carefully after pay¬
ing our bill?
"honesty Mr, B.—The is the clerk best kept policy. sn/^Jta^hat "^Kmler
Cities Star. 9
Back to Early Standards
“Are Gulch?’ the'w^^' gang^tfjPin Crim¬
son the traveling man.,
“No, sir,” answered Cactus J*
“We shoot things out for ourselx -
The Gulch continues to favor rugged
individualism.”
AND SHE THOUGHT—
Kmnft
Mr. Hard fax—If you think
can live us cheaply as one, I
try It.
Miss Man-chaser—Oh I This Is
so—1
Mr. Hardfax—You name one wom¬
an and I’ll pick two men and lay
you two to one on the men.
Ambition
He—I’d like to write the most pop¬
ular book of the day.
She—You think that is the way to
fame?
He—I don’t give a hoot for the
fame, It Is the way to fill a pocket
book, and that’s what interests me.
Hard Luck*Story
My friend, the visiting nurse, re¬
ports that a very sick patient told
her that her illness was caused by
had teeth. The way she put it was,
"I should have had my teeth exca¬
vated two years ago, for pyrex.”—
Cleveland Plain Dealer.
Lot Like That
Blinks—That dame can say more
foolish things than anybody I ever
listened to.
Jinks—Yes, her tongue travels
along at sixty miles an hour, while
her brain is Jogging along at about
five
The Real Point
British Guide (showing places of
Interest)—It was in this room that
Lord Wellington received his first
commission!
American Tourist (suddenly inter¬
ested)—How much was It?
HOW TO;
S HO OT
By Bob Nichols
■ Shooting Editor. Field and Streams—
\/| •* ANY barrel good shots Guns prefer In the this
gun.
are the pump-gun, the automatic,
also the so-called
The last named is really a double
rel gun. But Its barrels are
posed, one on top of the other, sb
it offers the single-barrel alignment
the true single-tube guns such as
pump and auto-loader.
The reason they give for their
erence is that the single tube is
and quicker to aim. . And more _»oeu
rate to aim.
In my opinion, this preference
largely Imaginary. I, too, shoot
single-tube gun and prefer It to
double-barrel. But I have tested
self time and again on the skeet
and find that I shoot just as well
either type of gun.
The single-barrel shooter’s most
monly expressed objection to
double-barrel gun is that the twin
rels confuse him an jAjMHE him
"cross-fire.” What. is
his eye unconseioiM^up «^ith
one of the barrels, usually the le
barrel In the case of a right-ha
shooter. Instead of lining up the
ter of the gun on the target.
ly, If your eye is unconsciously
trie left barrel of a double-barrel,
chances are that you will almost
tainly shoot behind the flying target.
My answer to the single-tube
the double-barrel gun controversy
this: If you are so conscious of
gun^that two tubes out there
of only one confuses you—then
you y are paying too much
.to your gun, and you are
g a shotgun the way a
be shot 1 *
• first place, your eyes
“universal focus.” In
r eyes, both wide
aware of everything In
field of vision.
that about GO per cent
should be concentrated
about 30 per cent on
about 10 per cent
perhaps ten yards
Qie target. I think
very nearly correct
t advantage of
ling for Instance.
tands on rigid
fully and flush
go with a roar.
correctly
rst bird you pick out, to
gun. and to the remaining
quickly knock down your first
swing like a flash on the
which your 10 per cent vision
you keenly aware of. and if you
quick enough In your gun
and are shooting a repeater you may
even get in a third shot And after
all rhe shooting’s over you know
the main body of the birds went
you can Immediately start for
right patch of cover to begin taking
your singles.
The man who uses too much of
vision In watching his gun—or
man who shoots with one eye closed—
can’t begin to do this. After the first
shot he Is floundering, and when his
eyes finally focus on the second bird
he needs the range of a full-choke bar¬
rel to catch It—and the third shot on
the rise Is almost Impossible. More¬
over, usually he will he in the dark as
far as knowing where all the rest of
the birds flew to.
For the frequent shot one gets In
thick woods and brush—especially on
grouse^and quite often on quail—here
I think the really good shot seldom
sees his gun:'-* His vision Is concen¬
trated about 80 per cent on the target
20 per cent dispersed over an
around and ahead of the target.
Is called the “snap” shot It Is
Instinctive gun pointing. It can
be extremely accurate. But It should
he used only In emergency—never In
country where easy, deliberate
Is possible. For the deliberate
is the surest killer.
©. Western Newspaper Union.
Denmark’s Bicycle Rider
Always Has Right of Way
In Denmark, writes Harry A. Franck
“A Scandinavian Summer,” the bi¬
always has the right of way.
are no exceptions and no ex¬
Automobile drivers who dislike
bicycles ought certainly to
their cars behind when they
the little land of the Danes. True,
two-wheeled riders there usually
out a hand to right or left when
to swerve from a straightfor¬
route—so habitually. In fact, that
Danes unconsciously do so even
foot! and not a bad Idea at that
a cyclist may cut In from either
at any time on any street or road.
An excellent highway runs up the
coast of the island of Zealand,
Copenhagen to Hamlet’s Elsinore
the popular sea beach beyond.
It Is not open to automobiles on
during the summer.
The constant motionless sailing
the air of solemn faced peo¬
on bicycles—high-hated ministers
the church, frock-tailed ministers
the government, haughty ladles In
garb, stodgy old ladies from
country, waiters In full dress. Irre¬
of the hour of the day—is one
the principal sights of Denmark,
most distinguishing characteristic.
In the country old peasant women
you would never suspect of
anything more unseemly
a rocking chair, sedately sad
glide past on bit teles.
Mguy?
"tRFFf-T CUM
Two-Piece Frock
in Smart Desig
PATTERN 2030
In th!«#two-plece frock youth Is M
llghtfully served. Make it of one of
the new fabric prints which look like
wool, or of a smart sheer woolen,
suggests a suit in Its trim lines an
neat tailored finish. The yoke
tends down the front to the edge of
the jacket In a vest effect from
which a belt partly encircl
waistline. The bow at the ...A>
extremely attractive in velvet, ■
of it In rust color with the froci^*
two shades of green. With the <L wm
l ••'embt ■jFF %
\\ the sj£
£"’"\ ......T Jr
/...... .....1 Jo and
......
</
t .-”’
)f a
yyyj
CS' //%< '
■■A
L
Y//s A ■J
' V,
il ...
iy-
grammed sewing chart which accom¬
panies the pattern, girl v
even a young
easily frock. .
can make the
2030 is available in sizes
and 18. Size 12 take
fabric, and
WS'TBIBSPBPI’S (15c)
('dins or stamps (coins preferred) I
this pattern. Write plainly namt
address and style number. BE SURB
TO STATE SIZE.
Address orders to Sewing Circle
Pattern Department, 2-1.’! West Sev¬
enteenth street, New YorkJ|
PREPARATK
"Daddy, I want to be ami
plorer." '
“That’s hoy.” if
fine, my
training “But, at daddy, once.’’ I wan Y s $ go In
“How so?”
“Well, I want a dollar &
cream so that I can get lstoim-d
to £be cold.”
And He Went nt I^i wTa
Sinister-Looking Individual
niflcantly)—Is yer ’usband at ’one,
ma’am?
Lady (resourcefully)—Well, If he’s
finished his revolver practice, he’ll
be playing In the back garden with
stir bloodhounds. Did you want to
See him?—London Tit-Bits.
UNNEIGHBORLY NEIGHBORS
kf, (
rM
-
t
Mrs. Tom—Are you troubled much ,
In your neighborhood with borrow¬
ing? m
Mrs. Daw—Yes, a good*deal.
neighbors never seem
thing 1 want.
Length, Not Breadth
First Voter—How long did the can-”
dldnte speak, Bill?
Bill—About an hour and a half.
First Voter—And what was It all
about?
BUI—He didn’t say. —Exchange.