The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1888-03-08

the branches. The girl p0SSeSSed little learn-
ing, but she was of thoughtful turn OF
mind. AS she looked at the wild flowers, SO
white, emblems of purity, and the red bird
so industrious, the secret of content and hap
piness, Lenita wondered why man, endowed
by our Father above with so great intelli,
gence, so rarely possessed the simple purity
of the alder blooms, and attained TO the hap
piness of the bird.
A heavy sigh from the man recalled her.
She had almost forgotten that she was not
alone.
''Where is your father to-day, Lenitar' be
asked, after several moments of silence.
He was at the cabin when l come away
answered the girl, fixing her dark eyes full
upon him. ''But l want ter tell We, Bert
Coles, don't want you-uns ter git my pap
inter no more devilment. You know well
huff what mean. If you-uns will do what's
gin the law We hev no business ter git 9TH
ers ter help yer in yer evil doin's. Pap 'ud
do right well an stick ter his religion if it
wasn't fur you-uns. But he's that easy to
gin in ter some body else's mind, that when
you-uns comes Ground our cabin with yer
smooth tongue, he allus gins in" Lenita
had risen to her feet and stood with flushed
face and flashing eyes confronting the hand
some outlaw, who only smiled in his habit
tual fashion as she went on speaking. When
she had finished he made her courtesy, and,
putting his hat on his head, he said:
Il am much obliged to you, Miss Lenita,
for the Grafton just delivered. and although
| should like to hear more, am pressed for
time and must leave you. However, l will
think over what you demand, but not to-day"
and he hurried off in the direction of the
cabin, up the creek.
For short time Lenita remained standing
where Bert Coles had left her. After a
while, she pulled out the fishing line, and re-
moving the half devoured bait, she wrapped
the line round and round the long cane stalk
which served as fshing-pole. As she was
thus engaged, the sound of a pony's hoofs
striking the rocky path caught her ear. A
moment later, fieetfooted pony came into
view on the opposite side of the Roaring
Fork. The girls dusky cheeks turned Grim
son as she recognized both pony and rider.
The rider greeted the girl, and then he drew
rein by the streams side and allowed his
pony to drink of the cool, hmpid waters.
He was young man of twenty-one or two,
perhaps, and sat his pony like a prince. The
dark eyes, straight black hair and small jetty
mustache that lent considerable beauty to
his dusky face all bespoke the Indian blood
in his veins. He was dressed after the man.
ner of the best educated and most civilized
of the citizens of the Indian Territory, and
not in the half fantastic style of costume
supported by a certain class there. The
belt, bristling with weapons which encircled
his waist. was not the insignia of border ruff
fianism, as is so often the case with young
fellows so equipped. Scott Redleaf, as the
young Chickasaw was called, was deputy
sheriff in the district including the Roaring
Fork region, where Lenita and her father
lived in their isolated cabin.
Lenita knew Scott Redleaf well, and she
had loved him for his manliness ever since
the day, several months ago, when he had
protected ner from the insults of debased
character and drunken brute. Scott Red
leaf, too, had been strangely drawn towards
the lonely, unlearned girl in whose veins
flowed some of the blood of his own nation,
and he was very happy to have met her
this morning.
After crossing the creek the young man
sprang lightly from the saddle, and leaving the
pony to feed on the grass that grew along the
woodland path, he approached Lenita and
told her his business there, in that part of
the Roaring Fork.
Some ponies belonging to a ranchman in
Texas had been run over the Red river into
the Chickasaw Nation, and were believed to
be concealed somewhere on the Roaring
Fork. He told her that Bert Coles was the
leader in the matter, and it was generally
believed that her father was implicated and
suspected of screening the chief of the out
laws and his gang.
"For your sake, Lenita, am willing to let
your father off on his promise to encourage
such wbreaking no more" Scott Readleaf
said, "but Bert Coles and his followers must
suffer what penalties the law has in store for
such criminals as he.n
He did not ask Lenita if she knew any
thing about the matter or could tell him of
the whereabouts of the outlaw Coles He
he'd merely sought her out to warn her to
put her father on his guard against the posse
of men now securing the country along the
Roaring Fork to find the headquarters of the
outlaws in hiding somewhere among its
bold bluffs and deep gullies.
Bidding the girl good day, Scott Readleaf
vaulted into his saddle and rode off towards
the north, taking the opposite bank from the
one on which the lone cabin of Joe Frenchy
was situated.
Lenita gazed after the young fellow until
the trees hid horse and rider from view
Then. fshing-rod in one hand and fish in the
other, she walked up the noisy stream to her
cabin home, dark, uninviting abode amid
a thicket OF wild plum and trailing vines
Joe Frenchy was leaning against his cabin, |
pipe in mouth, and hands thrust lazily into |
the pockets of his coarse jeans pants. He
was a man of forty, tall and somewhat given
to the bony order of humanity. His face,
however, was bloated looking, revealing to
ters" to a considerable extent. His beard
was scant and black. His hair and eyes, as
well as his principal features, proved his |
Indian blood at once. Above his head, on the |
rude logs of the cabin, the skins of several
wild animals were tackled to cure in the |
meagre rays of sunshine that penetrated to
that tree-environed hebitation. At his feet
slept two lank, lean hounds that pricked
their ears up as Lenita materialized down |
the path.
The stolid, bloated face of Joe Frenchy
itself as his child came into sight |
A moment before it had seemed nothing ON |
earth had power to change tn. dull expression |
of his countenance. Now the lusterless eyes |
grew bright, and his whole face seemed to |
glow with different life The power of love |
is beyond human estimate
Joe Frenchy's acquaintance were wont to |
say that if it was not for the love he bore his |
child, he would have gone to the |
dogs long ago. As it was he had nearly done |
so anyway, despite the great affection he had |
for Lenita. Yet, that love was able to re- |
claim him TO occasional reforms. He would |
break OF from his evil associates and declare |
that he would never touch another drop of |
whisky again, and for little time he would /
be truly happy in adhering to his resolves |
But the tempters would come, Bert Coles and
others, who understood just how to strike |
TIE weak cords of his nature, and. yielding