Mower County transcript., 1890-12-10

A moment later, just as Stoner was
going into the house, there was q low
thud Of horses hoofs, and Tom
Warren, the young sheriff, rode down
the trail, around the corner of the old
adobe building, into the country road
that lay to the west He had at last
yielded to Tessa's entreaties to "Go. go,
this minute, Tomw
Impassive as Stoner was he felt lit
tie startled by the sight.
'Where in the devil did you come
from, sheriff? Any thing up in this
part OF the country?'
'Oh, no; not particle. I've been
visiting my old school in the mountains,
and took the trail home down Cayucos"
This was plausible enough. for there
was blind trail that entered the
canyon just east of the angle of the
house. Stoner felt little relieved.
''Won't ye put up and stay with US all
night?"
mo, Mr.. Stoner; 1 must 60 down to
Kestral to see my friends there. It's
only an hours ride"
THAT settles it," thought Stoner.
''Plcnty of stout fellows to use as sher-
IFS deputies there. He has probably
stumbled on traces and is going for
help" He sat and smoked, and slipped
his hand back under his coat. 'Easy
to shoot the fellow" he said to himself
We'll. goodbye, Stoner," said War
rem. suddenly; II suppose the beach
road is as good as ever?''
''Perfectly safe, only when you cross
Tory creek keep on the sand-bar. It's
as hard as iron. crossed there to-day"
THANK you. Adios-"
Simple, smiling speech, those words
of Stoner's, and yet they were intended.
to send Warren to his death more surely
and safely than by bullet of pistol or
pellet of secret poison.
Stoner took an extra swig of brandy
and went to his rest Warren rode down
the rugged hill to the bottom of the ra-
vine, then turned seaward, and at last
the wide gulch opened broadly to the
shore of the Pacific.
The cliffs were from fifty to three
hundred feet high and full of wave
worn caves. Warren drew rein on the
beach and for fully ten minutes watched
the ocean sway and rise. His thoughts
throbbed with dreams of Tessa He
would take her away from her narrow
and hurtful surroundings. He would lift
her into happier and better surround
ings. He would force Stoner's consent,
marry her, and make her happy.
He rode rapidly south, and in half an
hour the mouth of the Toro appeared in
the mist of sand-dunes, breakers roll
ing in and the steady river rolling out.
Here was the long sand-bar, ten feet
wide, and stretching across hardly an
inch higher than the water surface.
Warren was beginning to have some
suspicious Of Stoner, but not such as to
lead him to doubt the simple directions
he had received. The sand-Dar looked
safe, but within few days the sea, as
Stoner knew, had swept it nightly,
torn out the long compacted bar, and
placed instead a quivering mass of
quicksand, so treacherous that not even
lightrfooted rabbit could cross with
out being swallowed up and dragged
bodily down. Warren rode swiftly for
ward; he had crossed sand-bars hum
dreds of times Some horses would have
been wiser. but the animal he rode had
been brod in the valley.
The approach to the bar was hard for
few rods, and he galloped on. Sud-
denly. in one heartbreaking, breathless
descent noiseless, but unutterably
dreadful, Tom Warren's horse went
down, down, and the soft, shiny sand
came up to his name. He shrieked out
that ghastly cry of appeal and agony
that desperate, dying horse will some-
times utter.
Tom knew the peril. He had thrown
his feet from the stirrups and drawn
them up At the first downward throb,
but the sand began to grab him also.
He threw himself Hat on his breast aad
tore himself loose from the animal,
over whose back the mingled sand and
water was running, rs it rolled from
side to side in Intellectual struggles to
escape. ~: -
Tom spread himself out over as much
surface IS possible, but slowly, resist.
lessly the mighty force drew him down.
ward. The hard beach was only ten
feet distant, but practically the chasm
was impossible. he felt his horse sink
out of sight; the sand gripped his own
knees and arms, his thighs and shoul-
ders. Two inches more and the end bv
suffocation was inevitable. Up to this
time he had not shouted; only his
horses wild death scream had told Of
the tragedy. What was the use? Who
would be passing along that lonely
road? Then he thought of Tessa and
Of life. He raised his voice in clear,
strong shout for help again and again
repeated.
Far of along the deep ravine came
cry in response and q horses hnrrying
feet, and hope awoke in his heart The
margin Of life was five minutes now
not longer. Faster, faster, o fearless
riderl
Tom, Where are you?''