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: SUNDAY, JULY o.
The Land of Broken Promises
A Stirring Story of the
A Mexican Revolution
A story of border Mexico, vivid.
Intense, such as has r*a*er before
been written, isHhisom: of Ameri
can adventurers into this land of
manana. Texan, mining engineer,
Spanish senor £nd senorita, peon,
Indian, crowd its chapters with
elear-cut word pictures of busi
ness, adventure and 1 ' love, against
A somber background-of wretched
•Pmies marching and counter
marching across a land racked by
revolution and without a savior.
(Continued from. Yesterday.)
‘‘No. ma'am." denied Hooker gazing
j%con her admiringly. “Nothing like
When I say Mex I mean these
pelado Mexicans —Don Juan tells
me you're pure Spanish.”
“With perhaigj a little Yaqui,” she
suggested shyly.
“Well, mebbe he did say that, too,”
confessed Bud. “But" it's jest as good
as Spanish—they say all the big men
in Sonora have got some Yaqui blood
■ —Morral, that was vice-president; the
Tornes brothers, governors—”
“And Aragon!” she added playfully,
but at a look in his eyes she stopped.
Bud could not look pleasant and.think
of Aragon.
“Ah, yee,” she rattled on. “I know.
You like the Yaquis better than the
Spanish—l saw you shaking hands
with that Indian. And what was it
you called him —Amigo?”
“That's right," smiled Hooker; “him
aind me have been friends for months
now out at the mine. I’d do anything
for that feller.” |
“Oh, now you make me Jealous.” she
pouted. “If 1 were only a Yaqui—and
big and black —”
“Never mind,” defrsnded Bud. “He
was a true friend, all right, and true
friends, beliege me, ans scarce.”
There was a shade of bitterness in
his voice that did not escape her, and
she was careful not to allude to Phil.
His name, like the name..of her father,
always drove this shy man to silence,
and she wanted to make him talk.
V “Then you ought to he- friends with
rho,” she chided after a silence. “I
have always wanted to be your friend
—why will you never allow it? No,
but really! Haven’t I always shown
it? I remember now the first time that
I saw you—l was looking through my
hole among the passion-flowers and
you saw me with your keen eyes. Phil
did not*— but he was there. And you
just looked at me once —and looked
away. Why did you never respond
when I came there to look for you?
You would Just ride by and look at
me once, and even Phil never knew.”
“No.” agreed Bud, smiling quietly.
“He was crazy to see you, hut he fode
right by, looking at the windows and
such.”
“The first time I met him,” mused
Gracia, “I asked about you. Did he
ever tell you?”
Bud hung his head and grinned
sheepishly. It was-not difficult to make
out a case against him.
And so Gracia had not wanted Del
Hey killed as he thought she did.
She was not the vicious woman he
had thought her for a time. She was
Just the gentle, noble girl he had
sworn to protect and conduct across
the border to her fiance. Again came
the desire to claim her, but there was
not only Phil to be thought of hut
the fitness of himself to be the mate
oA this woman.
Jv'ls it something I have done?” she
asked at last. "Is that why you never
liked me? Now, Mr. Hooker, please
speak to me! And why do you always
sit so far away—are you afraid of me?
But look.” —she moved closer to him
“here we are alone, and I am not afraid
of you!” I
“Of course not,” answered Bud, look-
Jng across at her boldly. "Why should
you be —you ain’t afraid of noth
ing! ”
“Is that a compliment?” she demand
ed eagerly. “Oh, then I'm so happy—
it's the first you ever paid me! But
have 1 been brave,” she beamed, “so
far? Have I been brave, like a man?"
"Sure have!" remarked Hooker im
personally. “but we ain’t there yet
Only thing I don’t like about you is
you don’t eat enough. Say, don’t pick
up them crumbs —let me pare off some
more of this Jerked beef for you. Can’t
nobody be brave when they’re hun
gry, you know, and I want to bring you
in safe ”
“Why?" she inquired, as she accept
ed the handful of meat. "Is is on
Phil's account?” she ventured, as he
rat gazing stoically at the horses.
“You were such friends, weren’t you?”
she went on innocently. “Oh, that la
Jwhy I admire the Americans so much
g—they are so true to each other!”
* “Yes,” observed Hooker, rolling hie
*>yes on her, "we’re fine that way!”
• Well, J mean It!” she insisted, aa
«iie read the irony in his ‘glance.
“Sure! So do I!” answered Hooker,
nnd Gracia continued her meal la at*
lenc*.
••Mr:” ■'tie sale at la*t; “this meat ta
goc-i. Tell me how did youjiappen to
have it on your saddle? We left so
suddenly, you know! ”
She gazed up at him demurely, curi
ous to see how he would evade this evi
dence that he had prepared in advance
for their ride. But once more, as he
had always done, Hooker eluded the
cunningly laid snare.
"I was figuring on pulling out my
self.” he replied ingenuously.
“What? An(k not take me?” she
cried. “Oh, I thought—but dear me,
what is the use?”
She sighed and dropped her head
wearily.
“I am so tired!” she murmured de
spondently; “shall wo be going on
soon ?”
“Not unless somebody jumps ns,"
returned Bud. “Here, let me make
you a bed in the shade. There now”
—as he spread out the saddle-blankets
temptingly—“you lay down and get
some sleep and I’ll kinder keep a
watch.”
“Ah, you are so kind,” she breathed,
as she sank down on the bed. “Don’t
you know,” she added, looking up at
him with sleepy eyes that half con
cealed a smile, ”1 believe you like me,
after all.”
“Sure,” confessed Bud, returning
her smile as honestly; "don’t you wop
ry none about me—l like you fine.”
He slipped away at this, grinning to
himself, and sat down to watch the
plain. All about him lay the waving
grass land, tracked up by the hoofs of
cattle that had vanished in the track
of war. In the distance he could see
the line of a fence and the ruins of a
house. The trail which he had fol
lowed led on and on to the north. But
all -the landscape was vacant, except
for his grazing hordes. Above the
mountains the mid'day thunder-caps
were beginning to form; the air was
very soft and warm, and — He woke
up suddenly to find his head on his
knees.
“Ump-um-m,” he muttered, rising up
and shaking himself resolutely, “this
won’t do—that sun is making me
sleepy.”
He paced back and forth, smoking
fiercely at brown-paper cigarettes, and
still the sleep came back. The thun
der-clouds over the mountains rosa
higher and turned to black; they let
down skirts and fringes and sudden
stabs of lightning, while the wind
sucked in from the south. And then,
with slash of rain, the shower was
upon them.
At the first big drops Gracia stirred
uneasily in her sleep. She started up
as the storm burst over them; then, aa
Bud picked un the saddle-blankets and
spread them over her, she drew him
down beside her and they sat out the
storm together. But it was more to
them than a sharing of cover, a patient
enduring of the elements, and the
sweep of wind and rain. When thej
rose up there was a bond between
them and they thrust and parried no
more.
They were friends, there in the rush
of falling water and the crash of light
ning overhead. When the storm was
over and the sun came out they smiled
at each other contentedly without fear
of what such smiles may mean.
CHAPTER XXVII.
As the sun, after a passing storm,
comes forth all the more gloriously, so
the Joy of their new-found friendship
changed the world for Bud and Gra
cia. The rainbow that glowed against
the retreating clouds held forth more
than a promise of sunshine for them,
and they conversed only of pleasant
things as they rode on up the trail.
The dangers that still lay between
them and the border seemed very ro
mote now, and neither gave them a
thought. There was no one In all the
wide world but just these two, thia
man and woman who had found them
selves.
Twenty miles ahead lay the northern
pass, and from there it was ten more
to Gadsden, but they spoke neither of
the pass nor of Gadsden nor of who
would be awaiting them there. Their
talk was like that of children, incon
sequential and happy. They told of
the times when they had seen each
other, and what they had thought; of
the days of their childhood, before
they had met at Fortune; of hopes
and fears and thwarted ambitions and
all the young dreams of life.
Bud told of his battle-scarred father
and their ranch in Arizona; of his
mother and horse-breaking brothers,
and his wanderings through the West:
Oracls of her mother, with nothing of
her father, and how she had flirted in
order to bo sent to school where she
could gaze upon the upstanding Amer
icans. Only Bud thought of the trail
and scanned the horizon for rebels,
but he seemed more to seek her eyes
than to watch tor enemies and death.
They rode on until the sun sank low
and strange tracks struck their trail
from the east Bud observed that the
horses were shod, aid more tracks of
mounted men Came in beyond. He
turned sharply toward the west and
followed a rocky ledge to the hills,
without leaving a hoof-prim to mark
=By DANE COOLIDGE=
Author of
“THE FIGHTING FOOL,” “HIEIDEN WATERS,"
“THE TEXICAN, "Etc.
Illustrations by DON J. LAVIN
(CoDvright, 1914. by Frank A. MunaeyJ
the way of their retreat.
Those hoof prints brought Bud back
from the land of dreams in which
he had been wandering to a realiza
tion of the dangers that lurked about
them. But a little -way ahead was the
pass they must cross, and he sud
denly realized that they could not
safely do so in the broad light of
day. He must not take such chances
of losing his new found happiness.
By the signs the land ahead was full
of bandits and ladrones, men to whom
human life was nothing and a woman
no more sacred than a brute. At the
pass all trails converged, from the
north and from the south. Not by any
chance could a man pass over it in the
daytime without meeting same one on
the way, and if the base revoltosos
once set eyes on Oracia it would take
more than a nod to restrain them.
So, in a sheltered ravine they sought
cover until it was dark, and while
Gracia slept, the heavy-headed Bud
watched the plain from the heights
above.
As he watched he dreamed of a
home in which this woman now sleep
ing beside him was the queen. He
dreamed of years to come with un
bounded happiness throughout all of
them. Thoughts of Phil and duty to
his pardner far away. Nothing
on the plain Below served to distract
him from this dream of happiness.
As far as he could see there was
nothing that savored of danger for
the woman in his keeping. There
w r ere no sounds or signs of either
federal or revolutionary troops, from
both of which they were fleeing, and
from both of which he must guard
her. Again they were in a world that
was all their own, an Eden with but
one man and one woman.
For an hour and more he watched
and dreamed, and with the dreams
came the desire for sleep, the cry of
nature for rest. Gracia stirred, then
spoke softly to him, calling him by
name, and her voice was as music
far away.
When she awoke and found him nod
ding Gracia insisted upon taking his
place. Now that she had been re
freshed her dark eyes were bright and
sparkling, but Bud could hardly see.
The long watching by night and by day
had left his eyes bloodshot, and swol
len, with lids that drooped in spite of
him. If he did not sleep now he
might doze in the saddle or ride
blindly into some rebel camp; so he
made her promise to call him and lay
down to rest until dark.
The stars were all out when he
awoke, startled by her hand on his
hair, but she reassured him with a
word and led him up the hill to their
lookout It was then that he under
stood her silence. In the brief hours
during which he had slept the’ de
serted coiyitry seemed suddenly to
have come to life.
By daylight there had been nothing
to suggest the presence of men.
But now as the velvet night set
tled down upon the land it brought
out the glimmering specks of a hun
dred camp-fires to the east and to the
north. But the fires to which Gracia
pointed were set fairly in their trail,
and they barred the way to Gadsden.
"Look!” she said. “I did not want
to wake you, but the fires have sprung
up everywhere. These last ones are
right in the pass.”
“When did you Bee them?” asked
Hooker, his head still heavy with
sleep. “Have they been there long?"
“No; only a few minutes,” she an
swered. “At sundown I saw those over
to the east—they are along the base
of that big black mountain —but these
flashed up just now; and see, there
are more, and more!”
“Some outfit coming in from the
north,” said Bud. "They’ve crossed
over the pass and camped at the first
water this side.”
“Who do you think they are?” asked
Gracia in an awed voice. "Insurreo
tos?”
“Like as not,” muttered Bud, gazing
from encampment to encampment
"But whoever they are," he added,
"they’re no friends of ours. We've got
to go around them.”
"And If we can’t?” suggested Ora
cle.
"I reckon we’ll have to go through,
then,” answered Hooker grimly. "We
don’t want to get caught here In the
morning.”
"Ride right through their camp?"
gasped Oracle.
“Let the sentries get to sleep,” hs
went on, half to himself. "Then, Just
before the moon comes up, we’ll try to
edge around them, and If It comes to
a showdown, we’ll ride for it! Are
you game?”
He turned to read the answer, and
xhe drew herself up proudly.
"Try me!” she challenged, drawing
nearer to him In the darkness And so
they stood, side by side, while their
bands clasped in promise. Then, as
the night grew darker and no new
tires appeared. Hooker saddled up the
well-fed hones and they picked their
way down to the trail.
The first fires were far ahead, but
they proceeded at a walk, their hones'
teet falling silently upon the sodden
ground. Not a word was spoken and
THE AUGUSTA HERALD. AUGUSTA, GA. 1
they halted often to listen. Tor otheTs,
too, might be abroad. The distant
fires were dying now, except a few
where men rose to feed them.
The braying of burros came in from
the flats to the right and as the fugi
tives drew near the first encampment
they could hear the voices of the night
guards as they rode about the horse
herd. Then, as they waited impatient
ly, the wastch-flres died down, the
guards no longer sang their high fal
setto, and ewen the burros wene still.
This was their opportunity. If they
were to get through that line of sleep
ing men it must bo done by stealth.
Should thecy be discovered it would
mean one man against an army to
protect the woman, and the odds.great.
as they were.,must be taken if need
be.
It. was approaching the hour of mid
night, and asitheir horses twitched res
tively at the bits they gave them the
rein and rode .ahead at a venture.
At their left the last embers of the
fires revealed the sleeping forms of
men; to their right, somewhere in the
darkness, was the night herd and the
herders. They lay! low on their horses'
necks, not to cast a silhouette against
the sky, and let Copper Bottom pick
the trail.
With ears that pricked and swiveled,
and delicate nostrils snuffing the Mex
ican taint, he plodded along through
the greasewood, divining by some in
stinct his master’s netad of care. The
camp was almost behind them, and
Bud had straightened up in the sad
dle, when suddenly the watchful Cop
per Bottom jumped antUa man rose up
from the ground.
“Who goes there?” he mumbled,
swaying sleepily above his gun, and
Hooker reined his horse away before
he gave him an answer.
“None of your business,” he growled
impatiently. ”1 am going to the pass.”
And as the sentry stared stupidly after
him he rode on through the bushes,
neither hurrying nor halting until he
gained the trail.
“Good luck!" he observed to Gracia,
when the camp was far behind. “He
took me for an officer and never saw
you at all.”
“No, I flattened myself on my pony,”
answered Gracia with a laugh. “He
thought you were leading a pack
horse.”
"Good,” chuckled Hooker; "you did
fine! Now, don’t say another word —
because they’ll notice a woman's voice
—and if we don’t run Into some more
of them we’ll soon be climbing the
pas*"
They had passed through some per
ilous moments, but Oracia had hardly
realized the danger because of the ae
surance of Hooker, who was careful
not to frighten her unnecessarily. But
it was an assurance which he had not
' felt himself, and ho was not yet cer
tain of their safety.
The waning moon ramn out as they
left, the wide valley behind them, and
then it disappeared again as they rode
into the gloomy shadows of the can
yon. For an hour or two they plodded
slowly upward, passing through nar
row defiles and into moonlit spaces,
and still they did not mount the sum
mit
In the east the dawn began to break
and they spurred on In almost a panic.
The Mexican paisanos count them
selves late if they do not take the trail
at sunup—what If they should meet,
some straggling party before they
reached the pass?
Bud Jumped Copper Bottom up a
series of cat steps; Gracia's roan came
scrambling behind; and then. Just as
the boxed walls ended and they gained
a level spot, they suddenly found them
selves In the midst of a camp of Mex
icans—men, saddles, packs, and rifles,!
all scattered at their feet.
"Buenos dlas!” saluted Bud, as the
blinking men rose up from their
blankets. “Excuse me, amigos, I am
In a hurry!”
"A donde va? A donde va?" chal
lenged a bearded man Ss he sprang up
from his brush shelter.
"To the pass, senor,” answered Hook
er, still politely, but motioning for
Gracia to ride on ahead. "Adlos!”
"Who Is that man?” bellowed the
bearded leader, turning furiously upon
his followers. "Where is my senti
nel? Stop him!” f
But It was too late to stop him Bud
laid bis quirt across the rump of the
roan and spurred forward In a dash for
cover. They whisked around the point
of a hill as the first scattered shots
rang out; and, as a frightened sentinel
jumped up In their path Bud rode him
down. The man dropped his gun to
escape the fury of the charge and In
a mad clatter they flung themselves
at a rock-slide and scrambled to tbs
bench above. The path was rocky,
but they pressed forward at a gallop
until, as the sun came up, they beheld
the summit of the pass.
"We win!” cried Bad, as he spurred
up the last Incline.
As he looked over the top he ex
ploded In an oath and Jerked Copper
Bottom back on his haunches. The
leader of a long line of horsemen waa
lust coming up the other side—there
was no escape—-and then back at the
frlgljtencd gtrL
'"Keep behind me,” he commanded,
“and don’t shoot, rm going to hold
'em up!”
He jumped his horse out to one side
and landed squarely on the rtm of the
ridge. Gracia drew her horse In be
hind him and reached for the pistol In
her holster; then both together they
drew' their guns and Bud threw down
on the first man.
“Go on!” he ordered, motioning h!m
forward with his head; “pr-r-ronto!”
He jerked out his rifle with his left
hand and laid it across his lap. «
“Hurry up now,” he raged, as the
startled Mexican halted. “Go on and
keep a going, and the first man that
makes a break I’ll shoot him full of
holes!"
He sat like a statue on his shining
horse, his six-shooter balanced to shoot,
and something in his very presence—
the bulk of his body, the forward
thrust of his head, and the burning
hate of his eyes—quelled the spirits
of the rebels. They were a rag-tag
army, mounted on horsos and donkeys
and mules and with arms of every
known make.
It was Just such an army as was
overrunning all northern Mexico, such
an army as had been levying tribute
on the land for a century. They spread
terror throughout all that great coun
try south of the American border.
The fiery glances of the American
made them cringe as they had always
cringed before their masters, and his
curses turned their blood to water. He
towered above them like a giant, pour
log forth a torrent of oaths and beck
oning them on their way. and the lead
er was the first to yield.
With hand half-raised and Jaw on
his breast he struck spurs to hie fright
ened mule and went dashing over the
ridge.
The others followed by twos and
threes, some shrinking, some protest
ing, some gazing forth, villainously
from beneath their broad hats. As they
looked back he whirled upon them and
swore he would kill the first man that
dared to turn his bead.
After all, they were a generation of
slaves, those low-browed, unthinking
peons, and war had not made them
brave. They passed on, the whole
line of bewildered soldiery, looking in
vain for the men that were behind the
American, staring blankly at the beau
tiful woman who sat so courageously
by his side.
When the last had gone by Bud
picked up his rifle and watched him
around the point. Then he Bmiled
grimly at Gracia, whose eyes were still
round with wonder, and led the way
down the trkil.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
The high pass and the insurrectos
were behind them now and the rolling
plains of Agua Negra were at their
feet. To the northeast the smoke ban
ners of the Gadsden smelters lay like
ribbons across (ho sky, and the line
was not far away.
Yet, as they came down from the
mountains, Bud and Gracia fell silent
and Blackened their slashing pace. The
time for parting was near, and part
ings are always sad.
But ten miles across the plain lay
Gadsden and Phil—Phil to whom Gra
cia was promised. There had been no
thoughts of him from the time they
sat together under the horse-blankets
waiting for the rain to pass until now
that the dangers were virtually over,
and but a short time more would place
them beyond the reach of either ru
rales or rebels. Bud thought of the
duty ho owed his pardner, even though
that pardny had played him false.
Great as was his longing for'Oraola,
he could not forget that duty. Their
companionship had been but a thing
to forget if he could, or at best he
oould only remember the sweetness
of it, and must forget the dreams he
had dreamed as he watched beside
Gracia In the hills. He was taking her
to Phil, and all else must be sacrificed
for duty.
Bud looked far out across the valley
to where a train puffed In from the
south, and the sight of It made him un
easy. He watched still an It lay at the
station and, after a prolonged stare In
the direction of Ague Negra, he reined
sharply to the north.
“What is It?” asked Oracle, coming
out of her reverie.
i "Oh, nothing," answered Bud, slump
ing down In his saddle. "1 see the rail
road Is open again—they might be
somebody up there looking for us.” j
“You mean—”
"Well, say a bunch of rurales.”
He turned still farther to the north
as he spoke and spurred his Jaded
horse on. Gracia kept her roan be
side him, but he took no notice, ex
cept as he scanned the line with his
bloodshot eyes He was a hard-look
ing man now, with a rou«h stubble of
beard on his face and a sullen set to
hia Jaw. As two horsemen rods out
from distant Agua Negra he turned
and glanced at Gracia.
“Seems like we been on the run
ever since we loft Fortuna,” be said
with a rueful smile. "Are you good
for Jußt one more?”
"What Is It now?" she Inquired
pulling herself together with an effort.
"Are those two men coming out to
meet us? Do you think they’d stop
ue?”
“That’s about our luck,” returned
Hooker. "But when we dip out of sight
In this swale here we'll turn north and
hit for the line.”
"All right,’’ she agreed. "My horse
Is tired, but I’ll do whatever you aay.
Bud.”
She tried to catch hie eyee at this,
but he seemed lost In contemplation of
the horsemen.
"Them's rurales,” he eald at last,
"and heading straight for us—but
we’re come too fur to get caught now. !
Come on!" he added bruskljr, and went
galloping up the swale.
For two miles they rode up the
wash, their heads below the level of the
plain, but as Bud emerged at the mouth
of the gulch and looked warily over
the cut bank he suddenly reached for
bis rifle and measured the distance to
the line.
“They was too foxy for me,” he mut
tered, as Gracia looked over at the
approaching rurales, “But l can stand
em of?,” he added, "so you go ahead.”
“No!" she cried, coming out In open
rebellion. "Well, I won’t leave you—
that’s all!” she declared, as he turned
to command her. "Oh, come along,
Bud!" She laid an impulsive hand
on his arm and he thrust his gun back
into the sling with a thud.
"All right!" he said. "Can’t stop to
talk about It. Go ahead —and flay the
hide off of that roan!”
They were less than a mile from the
line, but the rurales had foreseen their
ruse In dropping into the gulch and
had turned at the same time to inter
cept them. They were pushing their
fresh horses to the utmost now across
the open prairie, and as the roan
lagged and faltered in his stride Bud
could see that the race was lost.
"Hoad for that monument!" he
called to Gracia, pointing toward one
of the international markers as he
faced their pursuers. "You’ll make It
—they won’t shoot a woman!”
He reached for his gun as he spoke.
"No, no!" she cried. “Don’t you
stop! If you do I will! Come on!”
she entreated, checking her horse to
wait for him. “You ride behind me—■
they won’t dare shoot at us then!”
Bud laughed shortly and wheeled In
behind her, returning his gun to its
sling.
»All right," be said, “'we’ll rid* It out
together then!”
He laid the quirt to the roan. In the
whirl of racing bushes a white monu
ment flashed up suddenly before them.
The rurales were within pistol-shot
and whipping like mad to head them.
Another figure capie flying along the
line, a horseman, waving his hands
and motioning. Then, riding side by
side, they broke across the boundary
with the baffled rurales yelling savage
ly at their heels.
“Keep a going!" prompted Hooker,
ae Gracia leaned back to check her
horse; "down Into the gulch there—
them rurales are liable to shoot yet!”
The final dash brought them to
cover, but as Bud leaped down and
took Gracia his arms the roan
spread his feet, trembled, and dropped
heavily to the ground.
“He’ll be all right.,” soothed Bud, as
Gracia still clung to his arm. Then,
as ho saw her gaze fixed beyond him,
he turned and beheld Philip De Lan
cey.
It was the same Phil, the same man
Bud had called pardner, and yet
when Hooker saw him there he Stif
fened and his face grew hard.
“Well?” he said, slowly detaching
Gracia’s fingers and putting her hand
away.
As Phil ran forward to greet them
he stepped sullenly off to one side.
What they said he did not know, for
Gracia Watched Them With Jealeua
Eyee.
his mind was suddenly a blank; but
when Phil rushed over and wrung his
band he came back to earth with a
start.
"Bud!" cried De I-ancey ecstatical
ly, "how can I ever thank you enough!
You brought her back to me, didn’t
you, old inan? Thank God you're safe
—l've been watching for you with
glaaseu ever since I heard you bed
started I I knew you would do It,
pardner; you're the best friend a man
ever bed! Hut—say, come over here a
minute —I want to speak to you.”
He led Hooker off to one side, while
Gracia watched them with Jealous
eyes, and lowered hie voice as he
spoke. ,
"It was awful good of you, Bud,” be
whispered, "but l‘m afraid you've got
In bad! Tho whole town Is crazy about
It. Old Aragon came up on the first
train, and now they’ve wired that you
killed Del Rey, By Jove, Hud, wasn't
that pulling It a little strong? Captain
of the rurales, you know—the whole
Mexican government Is behind him—
and Aragon wants you for kidnaping!”
"What's that 7” demanded Oracle, as
she beard her own name spoken.
Bud looked at Phil, who for once
was at a loss for words, and then he
answered slowly.
"Your father te down at the station,"
he said, "looking so
"Well, he can't have me!" cried Gra
cia Aeflantl/. "I'm across the line
now! I’m free! I can do wh»n
please!”
"But there’s the immigration office,"
Interposed Phil pacifically. "You will
have to go there—and your father haa
claimed you were kidnaped!”
"Ha! Kidnaped!” laughed Gracia,
who had suddenly recovered her
spirits. “And by whom?"
"Well—by Bud hece.” answered Da
Lancey hesitatingly.
Gracia turned aa he spoke and sur.
veyed Hooker with a mocking smile.
Then she laughed again.
“Never mind,,” she said, ‘Til fix that.
I’ll tell them that I kidnaped him!”
“No, but seriosisly!" protested De
Lancey. as Bud chuckled hoarsely.
“You can’t cross the line without being
passed by the inspectors, and—well,
your father Is there to get you back.’*
“But I will not go!*” flung hack Gra
cla.
"Oh, my dear girl!” cried De Lan
cey, frowning In hla perplexity, “you
don’t understand, and you make ft aw
ful hard for me. You know they’re
very strict now—se many low woman,
coming across the lias, fur—wall, the
fact Is. unless you nap married you
can’t come In st all!”
“But I’m In!” protested Oracia
flushing hotly. "Pm—”
"They’ll deport yon;” said Du Leva*
cey, stepping forwardrto gtve bar npi
port.
"I know it’s hard, dtanr," ha ami
on, as Bud moved hastfly away, "bag
I’ve got It all arranged Why ibnld
we wait? You cam* to ■—wy me*
didn’t you? Well, you moot do It mow)
— right away! I’ve got the Uoens* Un4
the priest all waiting—aom* on beflaM
the rurales get back to town and res
port that you've crosaed the ttoa,
can ride around to tits north and eonq
In at tha other side of town, jngg
we—”
“Oh. no, no!” cried
him impulsively aside. "I pug Jgi
ready now. And—”
She paused and glanced at Bad. 1
“Mr. Hooker,” the began, walkfng(
gently toward him, “whet wilt 30m <1(1
now?”
“I don’t know,” answered
huskily.
"Will you come with u»—wtn jma d
“No,” said Bud, shaking hi* kgg4
slowly.
“Then I must say good-by?"
She waited, but he did not emnmt
"You have been so good to mn.-eh,
went on, so brave, and —have I benq
brave, too?” she broke In pleadingly.
Hooker nodded hla head, but bn <k|
not meet her eyes.
“Ah, yes,” she sighed. "Yog bevel
heard what Phil has said. I wleb now
that my mother were here, but—would
you mind? Before Igo I want to- -g»va
you a kiss!”
She reached out her hands bnjml
slvely and Hooker started back. His
eyes, which had been downcast, biased
suddenly as he gssed at her, and thea
they flitted to Phil.
"No,” he said. And his voice was life
less and choked.
“You will not?” she asked, after S
pause.
“No!” he said again, and she ahnmk
away before his glance.
"Then good-by," she murmured,tam
ing away like one In a dream, end Bud
heard the crunch of her steps as she
wont toward the horses wit* Phil.
Then, as the tears welled to hla ejree.
he heard a resounding slap and a«yuah
of approaching feet.
“No!” came the voice of Qtaflhfc
vibrant with Indignation. “I sajeetoP*
The spat of her hand rang out -gptt
and then, with a piteous sobbing, she
came running back to Bud.
with the stiffness of her long ride.
"1 hate you!” she screwed, as-Ptif]
came after her. "Oh, 1 hate you!
you shall never have the ktae! Vhstl
If Bud here has refused it, will I gttaj
a kiss to yon? Ah, you poor, mlecrahlu
creature!” she cried, wheeling upoQ
him in a sudden fit of passion. “Whsrs
were you when I was la clangor*
Where were you when there was nn
one to save me? And did you tbtafe
then, to steal a kiss, when my haSTg
was sore for Bud? Ah, 00 ward I Yo«
are no fit pardner! No, I will Msred
marry you—never! Well* go themj
And hurry! Oh, hpw I hate you—tef
try to steal me from Bud!"
Bhe turned and threw her srmg
about Hooker's neck and drew hi#
rough face down to her.
"You do love me, don't yea, BudX"
she sobbed. Oh, you are to good— *
so brave! And now will you take tha
kiss?”
"Try me!" said Bud.
THB IND.
The Koran.
In a recent number of the London
R very man Is a review of the Koras
and Its author Mohammed. It la a one
man's book, end that man not an im
aginative one, but eeeentiaily a man
of action and lacking In Invention.
The Koran Is a Jumbled mess of pre
cept*, doctrines, threats, Injunctions,
divine command*, narrative, lyric v>d
epic poetry. Its heaven and hell are
too material for modern thought "Ob
viously.” says Everyman, "the Koran
Is meant not to be read with the eye.
but to be recited, when the repetitions
ara not nearly so pronounced. It re
flect* a social order, a system of Ideas
ae remote from Rome and more espe
cially from Greece, ae our own ara
from the North American Indian. But
neither time nor evolution can utterly
quench the fltme of Mohammed'a per
sonality, which carried hie followers
to recklese excesses, to tho sov
ereignty of empires which created aa
art peculiar to lelam, and founded age
long traditions” i
'■ • ■ i
ITS LOCALITY,
"Pop. I want to now something.”
• "Well, Jimmy ”
"la tha washing of ths wevss don# ol
:he »»aboard?”—Baltimore American. I
FIVE