Connecticut western news., 1889-05-15

l chinks of the cottonwood logs, which were as dry and almost as infammable as finder by their long exposure to the baking sun and rarified air. Immediately following we heard the sharp crackle of the flames, kindled into additional strength by strong westerly breeze, and above all rose the exulting yells of the Apaches, who of course expected that we should very shortly be driven from cover.
 'I don't know how you feel about it," said my companion in the same hard, unconditional voice, t'but I had rather burn to death hundred times than fall into the hands of those fiends." Before could reply, a great tongue l of fire burst through into the interior. A sudden thought seemed to come to the brave woman at my side.
 'This way-quick!" she exclaimed. And pulling upa trap door in the rough flooring, she dropped lightly through I distinguishing the trap fall back to place.
 There was no time for standing on ceremony. Reaching out small hand, that was icy cold, though firm as rock, Mrs. Rainsford, taking my own, drew me to the further end of the rude cellar. In those parts it was customary to construct a sort of vegetable cellar few feet away from the house, in addition to the one under the dwelling, for winter use. But Rainsford, from some whim of his own, had dug his place of winter storage in one end of the main cellar itself, roofing it over on the outside with slabs of gray sandstone from the rlver bottom. All this his widow hastily explained as we groped our way to the heavy door of thlck planking in the side of the cellar wall, and, having entered, pulled it to after | us.
 It was indeed last resort, and it is no wonder that for some time neither of us was inclined for conversation. Over head was the roaring of flames, followed little later by the crash of falling tim bers and beams. The heat was almost stifling, but luckily the wind blew the fire and smoke directly away from the covering above, or else, despite the apertures left for ventilation, we should have been smothered.
 We could hear the Apaches' cries of fiendish joy as they stood about the burning building, expecting to see their victims bursting through the flames, and it was trifing satisfaction to know that they were doomed to disappoint- ment.
 As the anxious hours went by, and the intensity of the heat decreased some- what, I drew from Mrs. Rainsford her simple story. She and her husband, who was twice her own age, had moved southward from Montana. "He was al- ways good to me, Jim was," she said, with little sob, and so they had lived in quiet contentment on their small ranch till the terrible tragedy of the previous day. War Cloud had ridden up with his party and demanded whis- ky, which Rainsford refused him with out ceremony. Whereupon the Apache chief deliberately shot him through the heart, and, strangely enough, the band rode away without offering any violence to his mortified wife, who, all alone, had dug grave under the cottonwoods, and buried her husbands body out of sight. She was inten ding to make her way to the nearest settlement on the following morning, and after communicating with her people in Montana, decide upon her further course of action. Then I had appeared upon the scene. In return, told her of myself as far as seemed necessary, and I need hardly say, placed myself entirely at her service, as the faintest of returns for all she had done for me-saving my life in a double sense, as it were, for not only had she afforded me protection from the fury of the savages, but had undoubtedly prevented my dying hor- rible death from the poisoned arrow.
 It is probable that the Apaches pre- sumed that we had both perished in the flames, for, after day dawn, when ven- tured to push aside one of the slabs of stone covering our retreat, they had gone. And two hours later party of home bound prospectors with four horse mule team and complete outfit hove in sight, and need hardly say, after hear ing our story, they extended every kind ness toward us.
 We reached Ell Paso with them in about a fortnight, and their I said good by to Mrs. Ransford, for time at least. Did I ever see her again? Why, yes. married her the year after, and we came East to live, for it's your aunt Bess I've been telling you about-didn't you mis- trust? Nos We'll, those are the facts in the case, as the lawyers say, but there she comes across the street. Better not mention that have told you the story; she never likes to talk of that ex.