The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-04-07

COulphulOuS lduS HUI, hOUletlHl6b clap- ping him on the back with "Wal, Ned Clark, but yer is good company" "I f1atters myself better'n a baby who's nigh ter cryin' fer his mammy," Ned Clark shouted, as the horses ran down little gulch, jostling the oc- cupants of the stage together. These loud words teached George Elmair's ears, and made him conscious that the sense of desolation in his heart had somehow, despite his self control, sent it's expression to his face.
 He turned his head away, pressed his lips together, wondered if man was the animal who most delighted to oppress his kind, and then, deter mining to give no further cause for jokes to the man called "Ned Clark" began to observe more and think less. The country through which they were rapidly riding seemed desert to him, with it's light, sandy soil rising in clouds, and the heavy sagebrush losing even it's grayish semblance to green, and the dust settled upon it. The bushes, though, sent up a pun gent and rather pleasant odor, and the soil was capable of cultivation, as was evidenced by the large fields of grain and fine potato vines which, called "ranches," were found at every streamlet. What relief these "bab- bling brooks" were to the hungry valley, that swallowed them up within it's sandy depths!
 How they spoke of the cool and shady hooks as they ran down from the great pine- clad mountains, that with their snowy crests sent out here and there great "bowlder' to 'sshow formation," which, since the miners had ceased laughing at him, seemed their only topic of conversation.
 The stage stopped at each of the ranches" its passengers apparently well known to the "fellers," who would leave whatever they were about, 'jest ter give yer a shake, Ned," they said to the ruddy- faced, broad chested man. "Ned" seemed hero in these parts, but George, concluding he had done something remarkable, was soon undeceived by young girl the first stranger to be pleased with him. She ran out to the buck board with a glass of milk as he sat waiting.
 "Mother sez as she'll be glad to hev yer take this: it's so awful dusty ter day." she said, holding out the milk.
 "Thank you" He gratefully &C., cepted her courtesy.
 The she continued in the perfect frankness common to the west: "I say, eff yer is stranger to these parts, and hain't got no frien's, yer'd better make up ter Ned Clark. He's orful good et he has mind, an mighty mean eff he ain't. Why, he's jest skinned a greenhorn out O lot O money, jest for lark! An them with laugh, as if she was telling a good joke-'jest took all these fellers down to Calerforny Now, moneys all gone, Ned's back. So, eff yer haz spar cash, jest look out. An ef yer is dead broke, tell Ned; he'll help yer"
 The girl-and pretty girl, too told the story with such evident rel ish, such perfect ignorance of any wrong on Ned's part, that the free, generous, wild west George, had been dreaming of began to seem a place where man sinned and erred, the same as in eastern cities, but without shame or hypocrisy to hide his wrong.
 The Great mountains were, how ever, great; they grew awful in their grandeur as the stage, after rushing down road so precipitous that George felt exultation from the very danger, drew up at & store where sev- eral men lounging reused themselves into something like life, when one ex- claimed: "Ned Clark, Pll be derned?"
 "Yes, Ned Clark" called out this distinguished son of the camp, with a voice that, despite Georges inclination to fight him, had a pleasant ring in it. "Ned Clark an dead broke.' Ha, Ina [" he laughed. "Californy's the place to scatter your cash; but dern me eff Bellaire, pore as it looks" and the great fellow made bow to the few poor cabins that were all of the "great camp of Bellaire," as the newspapers , had called it-'.jest dern me if Bellaire ain't the place ter pick it upw He struck one hand into the other, looked around to see who would negative his remark, and finding himself the ad- mired center of a ring of fellows with slouch hats and canvas pants, laughed once more his "Ha, hap
 George Elmair, in his eastern cut : clothes, with his college elegance l showing itself even more than his sur l prise at the scene before him, was bit } terly smiling at his thoughts. Was this to be the scene of his success? How was he to make headway against 7 such rudeness, such roughness? He did not understand that rude and rough as the men were, had they