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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