The Middlebury register and Addison County journal. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1883-1885, 1883-03-23


ungraciously.
Myron rose from the table, clapped
his hat upon his head, and strobe into
the street without a backward glance
of farewell. 1t was not much past
five when he returned, and he was
not so sober.
1t was extremely hot weather. one
scorching, cloudless day followed
another. and the mercury over 100
degrees in the shade.-and Retta,
never very strong, was much reduced
by the excessive heat, combined with
her ever-present anxiety. Day by day,
she grew whittier and thinner, until
even Myron observed her wan appear
ance, and betrayed some feeling in re-
gard to it.
"You ought to have change, Retta,"
he declared.
The doctor said so, too, and added
that she must go somewhere, or she
would be down entirely.
"Promise me that you will be good"
she entreeted, as she took leave of him.
''Do not forget that you are gentle
man, and that your business prospects
and our future happiness depend upon
your conduct. Oh, be good and true,
darling"
Her voice broke into a sob, as she
chung to him.
"Nonsensep' and he kissed her lightly
"What a pucker about nothing One
would think that L was in danger of
arrant disgrace, and that you were
about to take your departure for Bor-
rioboola Cha, or some other place at
the antipodes, instead of for canon in
the Chiricahuas, but sixty miles away.
Don't fret about me, Retta, but devote
yourself to getting well, among the
trees and flowers and singing birds.
There comes the carriage. shall
expect to see you as dusky as a senorita
in month from now. Enjoy yourself
all you can. Good-by."
He parted from her more like his old
self than usual, but Retta's heart was
heavy as she rode away in the bright
sunlight.
Myron went back to the store re-
joicing that he was free from surveil-
lance for whole month. lie didn't
intend to do anything very much out
the way, but Retta was too straight
laced. If she had her way, she
wouldn't allow a man any Liberties at
all. Things were different in mining
camps from what they were in puritan
ical New England.
One quiet Sunday morning,--com
to think of it, it was not SO very quiet,
either, for Sunday is not observed as
punctilious in mining-camps as it is
in the east, and the stamp mills were
pounding away as usual on the daily
supply of ore,-but one peaceful Sun
day morning, the residents of Bonanza
were thrown into a state of the widest
commotion. Rumors of an Apache
outbreak at the SAM Carlos reservation
had been afoat for day or two, and
the outbreak was recognized as &
terrible fact. The bearers of the dread
intelligence had feared for their lives
in crossing the mesa between the
Dragon mountains and Bonanza, but
had luckily caught only a distant view
Of the motley band of savages. Tit
Indians were apparently making fol
the lower end of the Chiricahuas, anC
woe betide any white people who nigh
be crossing the Sulphur-Spring valley
between that range and the Dragons
unconscious of the proximity of tn
: red foe.
Stern-faoed men hastily saddled thei
horses, buckled on their cartridge belt
and brace of revolvers, and, takin,
their rifles before them, galloped u
and down the streets, recruiting a fore
to go in pursuit of the renegades, an
> to notify the surrounding settlers O
their danger.
Myron Richardson's first though
was of Retta. She was liable to be o
the road from the Chiricahuas, an
| directly in the path of the hostile'
Good God she might be killed, G
worse yet, be taken into terrible caI
| tivity! and he could do nothing to aver
the danger. Even now, the horribl
l deed might be committed!
e Retta was no more! never agai
g would he behold the sweet face thu
had smiled for him since that blesse
: day six years ago when his eyes ha
FIRST rested upon it. Never agai