The Portland daily press., 1889-11-30
THE scouNDR El.
BY CLARENCE PULLEN.
youths Companion.

BY CLARENCE PULLEN.
youths Companionl
Ridin & homeward late in the morning, l
oyertoDk two men on foot, who halted as l
came up. One of them spoke to me:
Il say, pard. how fur ahead is Van
Sickle's?"
did not like the man. His face was harl;
the eyes furtive. The shoes of the two rnen
were worn, their CT tbes dusty and travel
stained. 1t was not good sign that they
were travelling on the open prairie un-
mounted
"a mile" answered. "You'll sight it
from the next RISE"
The other man, swarthy Mexican, did
not lock up or speak. rode on and left
them.
At the home ranch Mr.. Keswick was sit
ting on the veranda. He was New Eng
land gentleman who was spending some time
In the country in search of ranch location.
l sat down by him and we fell to talking.
The two footmen had passed presently
came up to the ranch and seated themselves
on the edge of the veranda, saying nothin e
but noting everything about them. The
man who had addressed me on the trail l
mentally named ''The Scoundrel." l saw
his eye give sudden CLEAN as Mr.. Kes wick
took out his gold watch to note the time.
At dinner the two tramps ate ravenously
and silently. Black Joe, the cook, regarded
them with obvious disfavor. After dinner
they asked for employment on the ranch
Joe knew the foreman was looking for extra
hands, but he said, shortly. that no men were
wanted. Later, he privately remarked co
me:
"Dem triain' fellers dom want work. Dey's
looking fur to loaf roun', n spy n steal. You
see, sab, dey hab no boss, no beddih' no gun,
no muffin. Dey's boun' to git 'em wha' dey
kin. We amt fur outfttin' no such trash
heah. We fill dey bellies and we glib UNI
mighty willin' good by"
Shortly after dinner Mr.. Keswick saddled
his horse and rode away to visit a ranch
twenty miles distant.
The two men loitered about little, and
then sneaked away in the direction Mr..
Keswick had taken.
Later in the afternoon rode out in search
of a horse which had strayed. 1 did not
find the animal, and got farther away than 1
had intended 1 suddenly became aware
that il was shutdown and that was dozen
miles from the home ranch.
As was about to turn back, a riderless
horse ran up on the ridge beyond me, and
stopped moment with head and tail in air.
1 saw that it was Mr.. Keswick's horse. The
animal seemed frightened. 1t looked a
| moment-looked hack-and then ran on at
| full speed.
Thinking that some accident had befallen
| the rider, / rode in the direction from which
the horse had come. 1 kept on until it was
too dark to search farther, and then halted.
| After all, he might only have had an ex-
perlence, not uncommon with Impractical
riders, and been left afoot on the prairie by
a restless horse. If this was all, his plight
was uncomfortable but not serious. 1t
meant nothing worse for him than a night
in the open air and few jokes from the
ranchmen at his expense.
A night on the prairie, in fact, seemed
likely to be my own portion. l was now at
least fifteen miles from home, off the trail
| and the night was dark. But knew could
not be more than five miles from the nearest
sheep station of Van Sickle's ranch. To
this determined to go.
/ knew the general lay of the country,
and an hours riding brought me to the
station. There was no light in the frame
shanty. and the empty corrals showed me
that the shepherds had taken their flocks to
another ranch.
As this absence meant for me a night
without supper or bed, was at first minded
to make for the home ranch, although my
horse was tired. The elements decided the
matter for me. A drop Of rain fell on my
hand, and others tapped on my hat brim
The sky had become black, and, the rainy
season being at hand, knew that it had set
in for rainy night
There was nothing for me but to stay
where was l hurridly picketed my horse
on the prairie, leaving him free to feed to
| saddle and bride to the house, the door of
which was unfastened.
Within. it was pitch dark. l struck q
match as 1 stepped inside. To my pleasure,
my eye fell on a half-burned candle.
lighted this and looked about me. The in
terror was bare and unfinished, save for
two hunks, one above the other, and wood
en- stool. On the latter seated myself, and
filled and lighted my pipe.
| had sought shelter none to soon, for the
rain was now coming down in sheets, with
much thunder and lightning. The door
blew open, and braced board against it to
keep it shut.
By the time my pipe was finished was
sleepy. chose to make my bed on the floor
/ rather than in either of the hunks. NV
/ ea6dlQ eQrvad for n
with my saddle blanket rolled about me,
soon grew drowsy, and, with the thunder
crashing about me fell asleep.
l was aroused by pushing at the door.
and started up fully awake in an instant
"Who's there?" called.
The pushing ceased. heard low voices
without. l walked to the door, and, knock
ing aside the board that held it, threw it open.
The storm had cleared, and saw man
standing near the doorway. His hat was
pulled down over his eyes and partly hid his
face; but saw at once that it was the man
whom had named "The Scoundrel."
"Whose camp is this?" he asked surlily.
cyan Sickles" answered.
He started, and an exclamation broke from
him; saint we off that cussed place yet?"-
He stopped as if fearful of betraying him
self, and asked in different tone:
SCOT anything to eat?"
There is nothing in the camp"
THAT'S likely story" he broke out and
again suddenly checked his speech. Il
reckon We'll come in out of the wet, any,
| way"
| AS he said 1--WE" saw the Mexican, who
| had so far kept out of sight. Little as /