The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1885-09-12

from mesa. Could he reach tha
slopep He looked around the corner
of the house, the horse barely maintain.
ing his footing. Halfway up the slope,
and few rods above the house, stood
the Stout stump of a cedar, and his la
riat hung at his saddle-bow. How he
blessed his practice with it I! The first
cast was successful, the loop lay over
the stump, and pull frightened it. In
a moment he was back at the window
in another, Edith, stepping from the
sill, sat behind him and chung to him.
Again he guided Comanche to the
corner he wound the lariat around
the pommel of the Mexican saddle.
He drew long breath, and he rode
into the torrent.
The thoroughbred was swept off
his feet before he had gone ten yards
but he swan strongly and boldly;
the lariat was taut as a bowstring,
but it held. 1t seemed an hour be-
fore the middle of the stream was
reached. His heart beat fast; the
girl said nothing, but he felt her
clasp tighten; and still the horse
swan on, and the torrent, baked by
the stout lariat of its prey, actually
aided their escape. They neared
the slope; Comanche gained his foot
ing; they were saved! Jack had
never taken his eyes off the horses
head and the knot on the pommel,
and he had never seen a stalwart
bearded man gallop down the slope
and jump from his horse just before
they gained the land. Now, to his
amazement, this man lifted Edith
from Comanche and folded her in
his arms. Shortly he raised his
head.
"You needn't look so sort O sur
prised, young feller,' said he; "you
bet it's all right. l haven't got a
card-casc about me, but my names
Simpson, and-and-" His manner
changed in second. "God bless
you, for as plucky and clever a thing
as ever saw in all my life. He 7oiN
bless you, too, for you've saved the
life of my little girl, that's the apple
of my eye" Still clasping his
daughter tightly with his left arm,
he wrung Jacks hand, and the tears
stood in his eyes.
Just then, with many a crack and
groan, and almost, one would say,
cry of distress, simpsons Ranch
house was torn from its frail founda-
tons and swept down the valley.
"Never mind; let her Co." cried
he. "I'll buy a dozen blamed old
shanties like that for you tomorrow,
if you want EN-"
Next day all the neighborhood
knew that Simson had come back,
and why he went away; how the
partner who had defrauded and
nearly ruined him years before had
written him from his sick-bed in his
refuge in Manitoba; how he had
made restitution; how Simpson had
been for months beyond the region
of mails and telegraphs; how he had
come home and ridden up the valley
behind Jack.
81 didn't know you we're ahead of
me-" he told him. "Of course it
was my horse you heard; but | knew
a shortcut to the mesa, and turned
off by it; but you were too quick for
me. Oh yes, l know; it's all right
| wouldn't cross the little girl, any
way. If she's willing, l am; and if
she's going to leave her old father,
Pm mighty glad she's going to have
a man to take care of her that's got
sand"
The day the engagement was an
nounced in Pueblo the Arcade Sa-
loon did the largest business of the
season. From the sheriff of the
county down to the humblest COW
boy on the range, everybody was
pleased. Broncho Sam celebrated
the event in accordance with the
rules of the Moderation Society
rather than those of the Total Abb
stinence organization.
"Thet thar's as pooty a couple ez
yer kin find in this yere country"
said he; can Simpson he's come
back an done the squar' thing; but
l amt caught on to his stayin' away
an sendin' no word. say thar
warn't no sense in it, n0ho1v.
Talking.
1t has been estimated that public
speaker says in one hour, on an average.
what, if printed, would occupy fifteen
octave pages. In ordinary conversation
words flow from the lips quite as rapidly
as in nuhlic sneech. Sunnnsinp then that