Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1892-01-21

VINO sits there In silence with death so
near. Her eyes never leave his face, as
If longing for him to speak, if only to
pardon the past. All the old love comes
back to him. and he feels as if he would
give his life to take her again in his
arms. As he thinks it can never be, he
puts the thought from him and in its
stead comes the pain that she mas brought
TO him.
"Can't we escape without?" asks Duns-
mier, his lips ashen with fear.
mo-" an wers Hawley. with bitter
contempt and a new hatred, born of the
mans cowarilire, in his heart; lit is the
only chance for your wife. and we had
better do it ri isht ahead where the climb
ing begins and where we can get in
among the bowlders."
Couldn't one do it? would be will
ing to pay anything if began Duns-
mier, to quit abruptly as he caught the
stern look in Hawley's eyes.
"You cowardl Are you going to come
with me or notT" asks Hawley, as he
rises in his seat rifle in hand.
The horses under the close rein that
Jose is drawing have slackened their
speed, for they are already in the pass.
Eyes, yes, of course | will go with
you" comes from the white lips of Duns-
mier, as he sees Hawley preparing to
spring into the road. Hawley reaches
within his breast, and taking from it
purse hands it to the woman.
Mamie. this is all | have," he says
simply; ''see that my mother gets it.
You know her address"
Mrs. Dunsmier reaches out her hand
as if to prevent him from leaving the
blackboard. There are tears in her eyes
as they meet his, and her voice trembles
as she implores him not to throw his life
away for her sake. Almost before she
can frame the words he leaps from the
wagon into the road. In an instant he
gathers himself together and looks to-
ward the blackboard. Dunsmier is still
seated in it, holding his wife as if to pre-
vent her jumping from it. A wave of
exaltation seems to pass over Hawley as
he sees this man, who was to have stood
ly him in facing the Apaches while his
wife escaped, thus leave him to his fate
For an instant the blackboard almost
stops, rs if in response to some command
from the woman; while Dunsmier, who
seems beside himself with fear, has taken
from the drivers hand the whip and is
striving to lash the horses into greater
n xrYIn fn HI
terly. He can yet overtake the buck
board, or, easier still, he can hide among
the powders and brush that line the
canyon from the Apaches, and after they
have passed easily make his escape. No;
better to let I'LL end here than to let her
know he had played the cur. She would
escape and would know that it was to
him she owed her life. He took off his
hat and threw it into the air as signal
for Jose to drive on. He does not even
look where it falls. He will never need
it again he thinks as he crouches behind
bowlder.
He raises his rifle and fires at the fore
most of the Indians who are galloping
into the canyon. In an instant they slip
from their horses and, after firing few
shots at him, begin to climb the noun
tain side. This is what he expected.
They will climb the mountain side and
probably shoot him in the back from
above; but before they can do so and re-
mount their horses the blackboard and
its passenge IS will be beyond pursuit.
He had feared that they would rush in
on him, and his life would have been
thrown away in vain. 1t was for this
he wanted Dunsmier to come with him.
Two might do what one could not
Enraged at the escape of the buck
board through the delay he has caused
them, the Indians fire volley after volley
at him until the canyon echoes so with
reports that he cannot tell from which di-
rection the shots are coming. He looks
up toward the summit to see if any of
his enemies are above him, and as he
does so he catches glimpse of the buck
board, with woman's white face look
ing backward. An instant and it is gone.
Thank God! He knows they are on the
mesa now and she is safe.
So they are. A straight, level road is
before them, and at it's end they can see,
against the dark side of the mountain
beyond, a cluster of adobe buildings,
with a flag floating high in the air over
the parade ground. The horses are again
running as if mad, with the stingings of
the whip that seems to be forever fall
ing. The shots in the canyon die away
in the distance A mile is passed and
then another. Already the wild race has
been noticed at the post, and, while they
are still couple of hundred yards away,
the ringing notes of the bugle are sound
ing above the hard breathing of the
horses and the rattle of the blackboard;
for to the old soldier in command such
driving means that there is succor
needed.
AS the blackboard passes the sentinel
a few words explain all; and, while the
foam covered team still stand trembling
from their wild race, troop of cavalry
dashes by at gallop to the rescue of the
man who is facing such odds in the
canyon,
The woman who has come in with the
blackboard watches the blue coated men
with staring eyes. How slowly they
seem to go, though she knows that the
troop has never ridden-even in its wild
est charge-as it is riding today.
The husband approaches her and places
his hand upon her arm, as if to lead her
into one of the houses, out of the sun.
She shakes his hand off without looking
at him. The few women in the post
gather around and urge her to compose
herself, but she does not seem to heed
them. She can only stand and watch
the cloud of dust which marks the prog
ress of the cavalry. They have crossed
the mesa, and, as they disappear from