Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1893-02-28

| tno otu0t t0hoWs PonuoA oosoaBs w
your party"
I suppose I looked disguised; yet
have seen gentle ladies wearing boast
fully brooches that their favorte heroes
had taken from Christian men dead on
the field at Inkerrnan, and shawls Of
the loot Of Delhi cover many shoulders
that would shudder over . dead worm.
"rm not squimmidge." said Arm
strong. "It's my own and my brothers
money in them belts. I'll count that
out, and then. Of you won't take your
part, I'll pass II over to the gals father.
I allowed from signs ther was, that that
thar boss Mormon had about tux the old
mans pile. Most likely these shiners
they won last night Ia some Of the very
suferins SiIzum got from him. It's
right he should hev 'em back"
acknowledged the justice Of this res
titution.
SNOW" said Armstrong again. "you
want to stay by your friend and the gal.
20 I'll take one OF the pack mules and
fetch your two saddles along before dark
lights down. 1t was too bad TO lose that
iron gray, but there's more n two horses
| into the hide Of that black Of yourn.
He was the best man Of the lot for the
goin, the savin and the KILN. Stranger.
I've ben buyin and sellin and breedin
kettrypids ever since was raised my
self, but allow ! never seed horse till
I seed him lunge of with You two on his
back"
Armstrong rode up the alley again.
Another man be was since his commits
sion Of vengeance had been accomplished.
| In those lawless wilds vendetta takes
the place Of justice, becomes justice In.
deed. Armstrong, now that his stern
duty was done, was again the kindly,
simple fellow nature made him.
returned to my friends by the
springs.
gave q few moments to the horses
and mules. They were still to be unsad.
died. Healthy Fulsno had found his
own way to water. and now was feast.
ing ON the crisp, short grass along the
outlet Of the Champagne spring, tickling
his nose with the bubbles Of gas ss they
sped by. Sup, Fula,o! This spot was
worth the gsllop to see. Sup, Fulano,
the brave, and may no stain Of this days
righteous death-doing rest upon your
guiltless lifel
Brent was lying under the spruces,
browsing with fatigue, reaction and loss
Of blood. Miss Clitheroe sat by watch.
ing him. These fne beings have an ex.
Quisitely tenacious vitality. The happi.
ness Of release had suddenly kindled all
her life again. As she rose to meet me,
there was light In her eyes and color In
her cheeks. Her whole soul leaped mp
and spoke its large gratitude In a smile.
my dear friend" she said; and then
with sudden tearfulness, "God be
thanked for your heroisin!"
"God be thankedI" I repeated. 1--WE
have been strangely selected and sent
you from England, my friend and ! and
my horse, the hero Of the day, from the
Pacilc-to interfere here In each Others
lives"
ut would seem romance, but for the
sharp terror of this day, coming after
the long agony Of my journey with my
poor errant father"
"a sharp terror, indeedr'
"But only terrorI" and glow OF
maidenly thankfulness passed over her
face. Except one moment Of rough
usage, when I slipped away my gag and
screamed as they carried me Of, those
men were considerate to me. They
never halted except to dig well In the
sand Of riverbed. Learned from their
talk that they had made an attempt to
steal your horses in the night, and fail.
ing, dreaded lest you, and especially Mr..
Brent, would follow them close. SO
they rode hard. They supposed that
when I was found missing, whoever
went In pursuit, and You they always
feared, would lose time along the emf.
grant road searching eastward"
Eve might have done 30; but we had
ourselves ridden of that way In despair
Of aiding YOU and gave her sketch
Of the events Of the morning.
"It was the hope Of succor from you
that sustained me. After what your
friend said to me last evening. I knew he
could not abandon me II he had power
to act" And she looked very tenderly
at the sleeper-s look to repay him for a
thousand wounds.
"Did you find my glover" she asked.
"He has II. That token assured us. All!
You should have seen that dear wounded
boy, our leader, when he knew we were
not astray."
continued my story Of our pursuit.
the lulling beat Of the stream underton.
Ing my words In the still twilight. When
I came to that last wild burst Of Fulano,
and told how his heroic charge had full.
filed his faithful ardor Of the day, she
sprsng up, thrilled out Of all WEAKNESS
and ran to the noble fellow, where he
was taking his dainty banquet by the
brookside.
She flung her arms around his neck and
rested her head upon his shoulder. Locks
Of her black hair, escaping into curls,
mingled with his name.
Presently Miss Clitheroe seemed to
feel q maidenly consciousness that her
caresses Of the horse might remind the
horses master that he was not unworthy
Of like reward. She returned TO my
friend. He was stirring . httlsin pain.
She busted herself about him tenderly,
and yet with certain distance Of man.
ner, building q wall Of delicate decorum
between him and herself. Indeed, from
the beginning Of our acquaintance yes
terday and now In this meeting Of to-
day she had drawn apart from Brent
and frankly approached me. Her fine
instinct knew the brother from the lover.
Armstrong presently rode out again.
When be saw his brothers sorrel horse
feeding with the others he wept like a
child.
We two. the lady and I, were greatly
touched.
"rve got daughter myself to home
to the Umpqua," said Armstrong, turn.
Ing to Miss Clithsroe; "jsst about your
settin up and jest about ~ many corn
shuckins old. Ellen Is her name"
"Ellen Is my name"
"Thst's pretty" (pooty he pronounced
litl "Well, I'll stand father to you, just
a. Of you was my own gal. I know what
Q gal In trouble wants more'n young
fellows can"
Ellen Clitheroe gave her hand 10 Arm.
strong In frank acceptance Of his dffsr.
He became the paternal element In our