Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1895-05-07

nothing but few scratches, though the
force of the explosion threw him back
violently, and his head rang with the
laundering uproar.
He staggered out of the tunnel to find
himself surrounded by startled crowd,
whose fears were relieved by finding no
worse disaster
There was woman among them who
was a stranger in the camp, having only
arrived the day before, who fingered
when the others dropped away one by
one.
Let mo dress the scratches, please I
have court plaster here I want to do
it," with a petulant childishness as he
objected.
After all, she seemed more child than
woman as he observed her more closely
II want to do it, because"-in an
awed tone-"they tell me my husband
came to his death in that way. Wasn't
that dreadful? And he never got rich,
nevor made money enough to pay back
that 81, 900 he borrowed and take care
of me as he promised, but it seems too
bad, for they say if he had just lived
another day he would have owned the
best mine here. The bargain was all
made-just waiting to be finished.
Don't you think that is hard on me?'
It did not need the name to tell him
that she was the strangers wife nor
much Of her artless chatter to put him
in possession of all the circumstances
of her case-how it had been love at first
sight and hasty marriage between the
young pair without counting the cost;
how the old invalid grandfather, who
was her only relative, had advanced the
capital out Of his own small store and
the young husband had started out to
conquer fate; how they had waited,
hoped and feared, till sickness and
trouble brought them to such absolute
want that she had started out to trace
rumor-for she read few papers and so
missed the news they would have told
and now at last how the story had
ended here.
With his wealth it would be no great
trouble to win her, he thought.
His wealth!
If that fool Willard were living he
might say it was her wealth, but Craft
knew enough to guard that secret, un-
less-ah, unless those steps which fol-
lowed after him were the ghostly haunt
to wiring it from him, for he had heard
them first when no one was near.
He heard the measured tramp, tramp
now, and he dwelt upon that thought,
and he blanched lest others should hear
it as it followed him day and night.
He tried by force to shut his ears and
keep the sound out, but only let him
press his hand to his head or barricade
his ears with pillows and the ghostly
tramp, tramp threatened him thousand
times louder than before.
Every one in the camp noticed some
thing wrong with him.
He was not himself, they said. He
was off his balance, and the girl could
do better than marry man whose
symptoms pointed toward an insane
asylum before long.
But she did marry him, and turning
over things in the cabin soon afterward
she found paper which Willard had
hidden away.
1t was the deed Of sale, and written
on it in Wizards hand:
Delivered, but stolen back from the
dead mans pocket by Craft. The mine
was his legally, as I hope to be forgiven
for my share in the theft"
No ono ever knew just what passed
between Craft and his wife.
1t was Bill Banks who came along
just as Craft rushed out into the twi-
light, muttering orally:
'"Those steps-I'll end themW And
with the words he sent bullet through
his head.
AS to the money and the mine, of
course the woman got both without
legal trouble, but it was as heir to her
first husband, not as Crafts widow,
that she put in her claim. Boston
Transcript