Walker Lake bulletin. (Hawthorne, Nev.) 1883-1926, 1895-12-11

low strains of song filled the air with
rapture. Miss Ponchee had sung for rs
some opera songs, an Irish melody and
q wild Spanish drinking song, which
had warmed our blood like wine. One
of the capitalists, named Abelson, sue
cumbing to the music, had thrown
away the stub of his cigar and drawn
up close to the musician, seating him.
self, half reclining, upon the ground at
her feet in dreamy admiration. He was
q brawny, handsome man Of 30, with
brown mustache and auburn hair,
fearless, unfiinching sort Of fellow, with
nerves of steel and eyes Of liquid blue.
None of us liked him. He was too su-
percilious and self satisfied. He had the
glare and glitter Of gambler.
you're a grand player" he said at
q pause in the singing, "and know lots
of good pieces Did you learn the guitar
at school, may ask?"
"Oh, nol'' was the istless answer.
II learned when was child. A Mex
lean taught me. His name was Sanchez.
He could play anything on the guitar
lIOlu u WhlbL W Ill Op0its. LAO Voo htsh6
ed for stealing horses"
Served him right, the beggari What
music do you like best?" persisted the
intruder.
"I like Italian serenades the best.
They are enhancing
Won't you sing me one?"
"Listen to this little song" she an
swered willingly, "of Guiliani's.' % :.
She sang it soft and low, a simple
serenade, which might have been lul
laby, we all enthusiastically applauding
at its conclusion. Abelson began to clap
his hands, then checked himself, and
signing raised his light blue eyes to her
dark orbs
Course his impudence, said al
most aloud.
"Ill play no more" said Sergeant
Maberly, throwing down his cards. LET
Mr. Breitman take my place If he likes.
Will you, sir9"
"Thanks, yes" said the second specu-
lator, slim, gray bearded man of 30.
"What are the stakesF'
"Cigars," said I, with laugh.
The sergeant got up, walked off a
way and stood gazing at the moonlit
landscape. In a moment he strolled
carelessly over toward the fair guitarist
and dropped down likewise short dis
lance from her feet, but with great re-
spect and reverence Of manner.
OF course we watched him.
The other, Abelson, was obviously
annoyed at the intrusion. He shifted
himself restlessly and said with irrita-
ton:
Zine night, sergeant, for a raid.
Hadn't you better keep sharp lookout
for savages and skunks and something
Of that sort?"
and scoundrels, too, said the noncom-
missioned officer with asperity.
Abelson gave him an angry glance,
but made no answer, while the lady,
laughing gayly, rippled forth:
Don't let any Of them into camp,
sergeant, or we shall have to feel for
our scent bottles and our purses. F"
"To save our scalps," said Abelson,
with sheer, "for all the good the sol
diers would be.
"We look to the civilians for protec-
ton" said the sergeant.
lone scout is worth ten Of them, !"
replied the other
Miss Bloomingdale seemed suddenly
to awaken to realizing sense of the
situation. Blushing, she said with grace !:
Doubtless you would all do the most
doughty deeds in my defense, for you
are brave men and Americans.
No words were spoken by the knights
GRANT Of the camp, though many eyes
flashed fire. and judging by my own ev-
cry heart beat high.
As have said, our party was a mix
ed one. Sergeant Maberly was short,
clean imbed fellow Of 30 or 28, we'll
Drowned by the sun, frank, yet fierce Of
eye, powerful of build and bold as
lion.
Pouchee liked him. The character of
Seth Abelson, capitalist, prospector and
speculator, was a complete contrast to
that of the young soldier.
Crafty, stealthy, calculating, he SEEM
ed to possess the cruel and cold blooded
instincts of the native savage. Yet the
man was a product Of crowded cities.
Colorado Charley, our chief scout, was
familiar and numerous type in the far
west. A son Of the plains, tall, graceful,
slim wasted, with Saxon blond hair
and pink complexion, he was athletic
as an acrobat.
We sat at our game, Charley, Sanga-
rec, Mr.. Breitman and myself, while
Maberly and Abelson knelt at the leo
nine beauty s feet and scowled defiantly
at each other. Pouchee kindly smiled
upon her worshipers. Charley could bear
the situation no longer. Throwing down
his cards, he said:
Pardon me, gentlemen, have had
enough. Let one of the soldiers take my
place and play my hand"
Calling up one Of the privates, Char
ley strolled straight over to join the
group of corrtiers gathered about the
pretty half breed queen. She had struck
the strings of her guitar again and was