The Philipsburg mail. [volume] (Philipsburg, Mont.) 1887-current, 1888-02-09
A LADY'S REVOLVER,

She was too young apparently to bear
rule over the strange assemblage of Mex
lean and half breed boys and girls, with q
sprinklmg Of American youth, not of the
most tractable kind, who constituted the
school in the Puente eection. The school,
house was almost as rude and unkempt
looking as the scholars. 1t was part
''redwood' and part adobe, and no at
tempt had been made to give it civil
lied appearance. 1t stood upon a piece
of half cleared land which bore crop of
barley, carelessly reaped by the lazy
Spanish family who owned it, and whose
adobe hut was the nearest neighbor to the
schoolhouse, at distance Of nearly a
third of mile.
All round this patch Of grain land
grew the wild mustard in immense pro-
fusion. Here and there a cactus patch
flourished, prickly wilderness. but tho
mustard was the chief feature of the
foreground. 1t has beauty of its own
| when its myriad slender branches sway
to the breeze their golden blooms, and
desolation of its own when the flowers
and verdure are gone, and it spreads IN
/ all directions miniature forest-dry and
dead.
Beyond the mustard. rocks and bowl
ders began to crop up, which increased
in size and assumed shapes more and
more weird and gaunt as they lay nearer
the mouth of the canyon.
A wilder scene could hardly be i'm
agined. A stranger setting to the picture
Of Stella, as she stood on the threshold of
the schoolhouse. in the shadow of the
projecting doorway, watching her last
scholars out of sight.
Stella boarded with the Benitos, a de-
cent Spanisl family, living Oh the road
to San Bernardino, about half mile
south Of the schoolhouse. She knew that
when the children left she ought to 20
with them; it was to- lonely place for
were gone; but, Oh the other hand, this
quiet hour or two were of such priceless
value to her. It was her only time for
thought, for writing undistrbed the
cheery letters which were to brighten
and bless the sick room of poor Tom at
Los Angeles.
Poor Tom, her only brother, whose
young life was fading out under the
Olight of consumption.
The orphan brother and sister had come
from the city Of their birth and love,
their far eastern home, in guest of heal
ing for Tom. Both had been full of hope
The climate was said to be a miracle
working one, and Stella, as strong in
courage as i'll love, never doubted that,
while the healing process was going on,
she would be able with brain or hands,
Or both, to support their small establish
ment. But Los Angeles seemed over
crowded with young workers of all kinds,
and after many efforts and failures to OBJ
tain relnunerative work, Stella was
thankful at last, through the interest of
some school trustees, whom she had be-
sieged with applications. to obtain this
school, in all respects the least desirable
in the county; the class of scholars, the
small salary, the situation, everything
making it so unattractive that some for
malities might well be set aside in the
matter Of certificates, and teacher in
fniteIy too good for the place given
charge of the school.
The great drawback was leaving Tom:
the district was some thirty miles from
Los Angeles, and the cost Of going there
made large breaches in the meager salary
which was to supply the sick lads COM
forts.
When the children were all gene and
the loneliness of the place came upon her
with that strange thrill, half pleasurable,
half dreadful, the sight and touch Of her
little silver mounted revolver was a COM
fort to her. She prayed that she might
never have to use it, hut still it lay there
like trusty friend on whom, in posi-
BILE emergency. she might rely.
This afternoon the air was still and
sultry, and the utter silence lay like a
weight upon her; the dull ugliness of the
as well as the breathlesa
heat, oppressed her. After waiting for
awhile she leaned back and sighed impa-
tlently, and presently SHE gathered up
her writing, slipped the little revolver
into her s:cl.el, tied on her hat, and set
Off toward the canyon. Not many hum
dred wards above the school house ''live
oak," or lick, had struck root among the
scattered rocks and. finding some hidden
runlet to nourish it, had spread abroad
its dark branches, and made the one
spot of shade within reach when the
mustard was dried up by the searching
sun.
The way seemed longer than usual to
Stella. The sun beat down mercilessly,
though the afternoon was wearing on,
and once she sat down for a moment or
two under the scanty shade which the
mustard, not vet deuuded of its light
foliage afforded,