Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1885-09-11


Eyer kin do it, my boy" said he "but
jest yer ride like Jehu. Git yer boots on,
an I'll have the saddle on Oomanche."
In five minutes Jack with his head bent
TO the blast, was spurriug his horse wildly up
the valley.
There was nothing psthetio about the ex-
teTnal appearance of Simpsons ranch. The
architecture of the house was Of the early
cowboy period with suggestions Of that of
the mining camp. There was a severe sim
plicity about the roughly hewn logs which
made up the walls, and although the freaks
of fashion bring many queer things into pop
ular use, the plastering of crevices with dCt06e
has not yet been naturslized in polite neigh
borhoods. Never, however, should the wise
traveller In the West and southwest judge Of
the kernel by the shell, of the interior by the
exterior. Both Mrs. Simpson and her daugh-
ter possessed the rare and charming gift of
practical management" which Hawthorne has
ascribed to little Phoebe, in The House Of the
SeDen Gables.
ut is q kind Of natural magic" he says,
that enables these favored ones to bring out
the hidden capabilities of things around
them and particularly TO give q look Of COM
fort and habitableness TO any place which for
however brief period may happen TO be
their home"
So did cheap and simple material take new
character and virtue from their hands, so
were rough wall hidden by chintz OF tasteful
pattern and homogeneous tint so did refine
ment supply the place of costly equipment.
Jack Reynolds realized all this the first time
he entered the building. To be sure, he saw
it under favorable circumstances.
The daughter of the house had come out to
meet him as he approached. When she saw
II was her own favorite horse he had brought
home, her face was lighted up by smile
which went straight to his heart. Before his
visit came to an end he discovered that her
name was Edith. What more he discovered
about her no one but himself would know
but II could not have been otherwise than
pleasant for he arrived at his home in the
highest of spirits. He counted the days until
he thought he might call again, and he made
them as few as he possibly could. II was
strong evidence of Broncho Sans partiality
| for his young friend that he took but mild
| exception to what must surely be dstrac-
| tion to an embryo cowboy; but then Sam
himself had seen the young lady, and her
| grace and sweetness had made an impression
on even his case-hardened sensibilities.
THAR amt no kind O. use in talkin' about
| it, he said ''its human nstur. I'm an old
man now, but was young once myself, an
i kuOHs ne thct bOb oohhf oh
she's a real good appearin' gal, an l allow 1t
amt no ones business but theirs"
The road up the valley was narrow and
rough one side was often much higher than
the other the prickly cactus bushes trenched
on it and many furrows and holes lay as
pitfalls before the rider. All riders, however,
had not such horses as Comanche. He knew
what was expected of him. With a splendid
stride he went over the difficult path as II
over English turf, clearing this treacherous
gully with spring, swerving TO avoid that
pile of earth washed down by the evenings
rains, leaving one landmark after another be-
hind in his headlong course. They talk tc
this day Of the time in which he made the
distance.
Jack sat him like the good horseman he
was. His excitement was intense, but every
faculty seemed under perfect control One
thinks and remembers at such times with un
wonted quiokness and vividness. Not know
ing what duty or peril awaited him, nerveo
for whatever II might be- he still found him
self wondering whether Sam and the othel
man could get the horses TO place Of safety
Then he thought, for what seemed to him {
long time, but was probably few seconds
OF his far-away home. Then the absorbing
theme of what he must soon encounter tool
the place Of all else. The horse began Il
breathe little hard, but his pace never slack
ened. At one time Jack fancied he heart
hoofs behind him, but he dismissed the idei
as absurd. The next moment he saw some
thing which made his heart beat fast. Wha
had shown itself in the gray light Of dawn a
a slender turbid rill was now a large stream
and growing higher every moment Instinct
lively he called to HE horse. Faster the nobl
animal sped on the water was around hi
: feet There was turn in the valley wher
II narrowed a surging torrent reached hi
knees as he rounded the point of the cliff. 1
I Ave minutes he slackened his pace, for there
parting the flood which eddied around II
. tugged and tore at it, hurled logs and stump
\ and tree trunks at II, was Simpsons Ranof
1 and at the window on the lower side wa
3 Edith.
a In the lee, as 1t we're, of the house, the wi
o ter was comparatively quiet and shallow.
: q second he was at the window, the horf
+ standing still, with hesving flanks and labo
1 ing breath There was scant time for GER
: mony, but the expression of JOY on the girl
Q face told its story, aud he managed to reao
i her hand with his. Only few words passt
4 at first. Her mother had spent the night vii
o a sick child at a ranch on the hill. At da,
d break, alarmed at the prospect OF the 'wasl
Q out" the hands had gone 10 look after Il
o stock, and the Mexican woman TO escort h'
3 mother back. Then the flood had come su
n denly and cut of their return.
N Jack always said his plan of rescue was
3 pure inspiration. At the right, separate
,r from the house by wide and deep torren
l. the ground sloped from a mesa. Gould
i reach that slope2 He looked around q
10 corner of the house, the horse barely mai
le tanning his footing. Halfway up the slop
\; and few rods above the house, stood Il
70 stout stump of a cedar, and his lariat hung
At his saddle-bow How he blessed his pTacti
l. with II The first cast was successful I
loop lay over the stump, and pull tighten
III It. In a moment he was back at the windo'
D. In another, Edith, stepping from the sill, 4
la behind him and clunR to him. Again
p. guided Oomanohe 10 the corner he wou
I'd the lariat around the pommel OF the Mexio
of ! saddle. He drew a long breath, and he ro