Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1893-02-14
CHAPTER XIV.
ARMSTRONG.

He pulled hh horse hard upon nj,
hdunches and oiarcd at ~.
I awoke In the solemn quiet dawn ol
the next morning with my forebodings
of Ill gone, and In their stead what
could not but deem q baseless hopeful
ness for our new friends welfare.
Brent did not share It. His usual gay
matin song was dumb. He covered,
chilled and spiritless, by our camp fire.
Breakfast was an idle ceremony to both.
We sat and looked at each other. His
despair began to infect me. This would
not do.
left my friend, sitting unnerved and
purposeless, and walked to the mail
riders camp.
Jake Shamberlain was already stirring
about rs merry as grig-and that Ia
much to say on the plains. There are
two grigs to every blade Of grass from
Echo canyon to the South pass, and yet
every one sings and skips As gayly as II
merriment would make the desert q
meadow.
"You are astir early after tho ball,
Jake" said /.
"Ef wait till the gals In the train be-
gins to polky round I shan't git my men
away nary time. They olluz burr to
gals, like all young fellers. Well haul
of jest as soon as you're ready"
1--WE are ready" said.
I made our packs aud saddled the
mustangs.
"Come, Brent" said I. shaking him by
the shoulder, "start, old fellowl Your
ride will rouse YOU"
He obeyed and mounted. He was
quite cowed and helpless. did not
know my brave. cheerful friend in this
weak being. He seemed to me as old
and dreary as Mr.. Clitheroe. Love must
needs have taken . very cruel clutch
upon his heart. There was not one
man outside Of our own party to be seen.
"Where are their sentinels, Jaker'
said I.
"Too much spree for good watch"
says he.
"Elder Sizzum ought to look sharper" |"
"He's o prime leader. But he TUX
dance, agree and faro last night with o
perfect looseness. Idunno what's come
over Sizzum; bein great apostles
maybe too much for him. But then he
knows ther amt no Utes round here TO
stampede his animals or run Of any OF
his gals. Both er you men could have
got you wife apiece last night, and ben
twenty miles on the way and nobody
the wiser. Now, boys, be alive with
them mules. I want to be Off,"
"Where are Smith and Robinsonr' ]
asked, missing the two gamblers - we
started.
"Let 'em slide, cuss 'em!" said Jake.
"'Tain't my business to call 'em up and
fetch 'em hot water and black their
boots. They moved camp away from
rs over into the brush by you. Reckon
they was afeared some on Us would be
goin havles with 'em In the pile they
raked last night. Let 'em slide, the durn
rirperbitsi Every man for hisself, ! say.
They snaked me to the figure Of slug
at their cheatin game. and now they
may sleep till they dry and turn to
grasshopper pie for me-"
Jake cracked his long whip. The
mules sprang forward together. We
started.
I gave one more look at the caravan
we had seen winding 20 beautifully down
on the plain no longer ago than yester.
day evening. Rosy morning frightened
on every wagon Of the great ellipse. Not
q soul was to be seen Of all their tenants.
I recognized Mr.. Clitheroe's hsbitation
at the farther end. That, too, had the
same mysterious, deserted air, as II the
sad pair who dwelt in 1t had desperately
wandered away into the desert by night.
Brent would not turn. He kept his
haggard face bent eastward toward the
horizon, where an angry sunrise began
to thrust out the quiet hues Of dawn.
followed the train, doggedly refus-
ing to think more Of those desolate
friends we were leaving. Their helpless
fate made all the beauty Of the scene
only crueler bitterness. What right
had dawn to tinge with sweetest viole,
and with hopeful rose the shelters oi
that camp of delusion and follyi
We rode steadily on through the cool
haze, and then through the warm, sun
ny haze Of that October morning. Bren,
hardly uttered word. He left me the
whole task Of driving our horses. A
difficult task this morning. Their rest
and feast Of yesterday had put Pumps
and Fulano In high spirits. / had my
hands full to keep them In the track.
We had ridden some eighteen milei
when Brent fell back out OF the dust Of
our march and beckoned me.
"Dick," said he, II have had enough
Of this"
He grew more Ike himself a. hs
spoke.
"I was crushed and cowardly, las
night and this morning." he continued
"For the frst time In my life my hop
and judgment fail me together. Yot
must despise me for giving up and quilt
ting Miss Clitheroe."
"My dear boy" said I, I'VE were part
ners In our despair"
.,Nft.o a. .,ona hava made nm my