The Press., 1892-11-24


 across the spurs of Laramie peak, the broad plain of Fort Laramie.
 Brent revived. We rode steadily. Just before sunset we pulled up at our goal
 For the last hour had ridden close to Brent. I saw that it was almost mp with him. He swayed in his saddle. His eye was glazed and dull But he kept his look fixed on the little group of Laramie barracks and let his horse carry him.
 I lifted up my heart in prayer that this noble life might not be quenched. He must not die, now that he was enlarged and sanctiied by truest love.
 At last we struck open country. Bill Armstrong's sorrel took a cradling lope; we rode through camp of Sioux "tep- ees," like so many great white fools- caps; we turned the angle of great white wooden building and halted. sprang from Fulano and Brent quietly dropped down into my arms.
 ssJust in time," said a cheerful. manly voice at my ear.
 'sI hope SO. said L ''ls it Captain Ruby?'
 sYes. We'll take him into my bed. Dr. Pathie, here's patient for you"
 We carried Brent in. As we crossed the veranda saw Miss Clitheroe's meet ing with her father. He received her almost peevishly. ; We laid the wounded man in Ruby's hospital bed. Evidently fine fellow, Ruby, and, what was to the point, fond of John Brent.
 Critical case" said Dr. Pathie at last. He had great umbrageous eyebrows and agentle, perennptory manner, as of one who had done much merciful cruelty in his day. Ugly wound. Never saw a worse furrow. Conical ball. He must have been almost at the muzzle of the pistol. He ought not to have stirred for 8 month. Keep him quiet And do not let him see or hear or feel the presence of that beautiful young woman. She is not his sister, and she will have too much trouble herself to be tranquil nurse for him here"
 l left him with his patient and went out to care for our horses. Ruby. mod est host, had saved me all trouble.
 'sI have given Miss Clitheroe my sole guest chamber" he said. ''She has a lady's maid in the brawny person of an Irish corporaless. What a transcendent being she is! don't wonder Brent loves her, as divined he did from what Jake amberlain-shrewd fellow, Jake-said when he consigned the father to me-"
 sl must have a talk with the old gen. tleman. Oh, there he is with Arm strong"
 Armstrong was handing him the money belt. His eyes gleaned as he iclutched it.
 s.Trouble in store, 1 fear" said Cap tain Ruby, flor MT. Clitheroe and all who care for him."
 'He ought to be at peace at last"
 'sHe is not Dr. Pathie says he is a case of drapetomania." Y
 s'I have heard that outlandish word used to express the tendency-diseased of course-that negroes have to run away from their masters"
 "Mr. Clitheroe is wild to get away from his proper master, namely. him. self"
 "A desperate malady! At his age al most fatal"
 '.So Pathie says. When man of Mir. Chtheroe's age is not at peace within, he goes into war with his circumstances. He cannot conquer them, so he runs away. He has always before him g shadow of a dream of what he might have been, and that ghost drives him and chases him until it wears him out. 1,,,< Sc %1,a and disappointed that this pitiable dis ease attacks. Very rich and prosperous suffer, become drapetomaniacs, sel houses and build new, change neighbor hoods. travel furiously, never able te escape from that inevitable companion of 8 representing self.'
 "Mr. Citheroe is chafing to be gone start train for the States tomorrow the last chance to travel with escor this season-a small typographical party going back. He has been for the last few days in passion of impatience, al most scolding me and your party, hi! daughter and circumstances, lest yor should not arrive in time for him to go .To go where? What does he intend?'
 "He is full of great schemes. do no know of course anything of him excep what have picked up from his com municativeness; but you would suppose him duke from his talk. He speaks O his old manor house. should know i by sight now-and says he intends to re purchase it and be great man again He is constantly inviting me to share hi new splendors. Really his pictures O life in England will quite spoil me fol another winter of cooling my heels il this dismal place, with a scalp on my head and hundred Sioux looking at ii hungrily."
 'sHe must be deranged by his troubles am sure he has no basis for any hope in England. Sizzum stripped him. H' has alienated his friends at home. Hi daughter is his only friend and guardian except ourselves"
 "He sprang up when he saw you com ing and was frantic with joy. not for hi daughters safety, but because he could start with the train tomorrow. sup pose she is tested traveller by this time. GAS thoroughly as any man on tho plains"
 s'She can go very comfortably in thu train. Two or three soldiers wives go.
 The chance is clearly not to be lost donot like to part with my fascinating comrade. It was poetry to camp witt such woman. Travel will seem stal, henceforth. wish we could keep her for Brent's sake."
 ssPoor fellowl Pathie looks very doubt full. You must tell me your story mort fully after supper"
 Miss Clitheroe had yielded to fatigue did not see her that night In fact after all the wearing anxiety of our tri, was glad to lie down on white buffalo robe, with the Sybaritic luxury of pail of clean sheets, and show my gratitud, tosRuby by twelve hours solid sleep.
 A drum beat awaked me next morn ing. It was not reveille, it was no breakfast, it was not guard mounting. sprang up and looked from the window How odd it seemed t0 r,eear from a win