The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1896-01-03
ONE DASH---HORSES.
ny STEPHEN CRANE.
Author of"Thr Black Isidera," Etc.
Copyright, 1921
PART 1.


Richardson pulled up his horse and
looked back over the trail where the
crimson serape Of his servant famed
amid the dusk OF the mesquite. The
hills In the west were carved into peaks.
and were painted the most profound
blue. Above them the sky was OF that
marvellous tone OF green-like stlll. sun
shot water-whIch people denounce in
pictures.
Jose was muflled deep in his blanket,
and his great topping sombrero was
drawn low over his brow. He shadow.
cd his master along the dimming tran
In the fashion OF an assassin. A cold
wind OF the impending night swept over
the wIldness of mesquite.
Man." said Richardson In lame
Mexican as the servant drew near, I
want eat! I want sleep! Understand
no? QuIcllyl Understand"
ISL, senor." said Jose, noddlng. He
stretched one arm out OF his bfnnket
and pointed yellow finger into the
gloom. "over there, small village! 81,
senor,"
They rode forward again. Once the
Americans horse SHE'D and breathcd
quiveringly at something which he saw
or imagined In the darkness, ana the
rider drew a steady, patient rein, and
leaned over to speak tcnderly us II he
were addressing frightened woman.
The sky had faded TO white over the
mountains and the plain was a vast,
pOintless ocean OF black.
Suddenly some low houses appeared
squattlng among the bushes. The
horccmen rode into hollow until the
houses rose against the sOmbrc sun
down sky. and then UP small hlllocK.
causing these hnbltAtions to sink Ike
boats In the sac OF shadow.
4 beam OF red frc-llght fell across
the trail Richardson sat sleepily on
hts horse while the servant quaFTe!ed
with somebody's mere voice In the
gloom--over the price OF bed and board.
The houses about him were for the
most part like tomhs in their wilderness
and silence. but there We're BcuddinS
black figures that seemed Interested In
his arrival.
Jose came at last to the horses heads.
and the American slid stiiliy fpJm his
seat. He muttered a greeting MS with
his spurred feet he clicked into the
adobe house that confronte! him. The
brown stoiid face OF 4 w6man shone In
the light OF the fire. He seated him
self on the enrthen floor and bllnkcd
drowsIly Mt the blaze. He was aware
that the woman was blinking earthen-
ware, ana hieing here and everywhere
in the maneuVers of the housewife.
From n dark corner of the room there
came the sound Of two or three snores
twInlnE together.
The woman handed him n bowl OF
tortillns, She was a submissive Great
ure, timfd and fnrge-eyed. She gaZed at
his enormous silver spurs, his large ana
impressive revolver. with the interest
and admiration OF the highly privileged
cat OF the adRgc. When he ate. she
seemed transfiXcd OF there in the bloom.
her white teeth shining.
Jose entered, staggering under two
Mexican saddles. large enough for
building sites. Richardson decided TO
smoke a cigarette. and then changed his
mind. It would be much finer to go to
sleep. His blanket hung over his left
shoulder, furlcd into long pipe OF
cloth, according TO Mexican fashion.
BY dotIIlng his sombrero. christening
his spurs and his revolver belt, he made
himself ready for the slow blissful twist
into the blanket. Like n cautious man
he lay close to the wall and all his prop
erty was very near lis hand.
The mesquite brush burned long.
Jose threw two gigantic wings OF
shadow Ms he Tapped his blanket about
him--frst across his chest under his
arms. and then around his neck and
across Ills chest nEain-this time over
his arms. with the end tossed on his
right shoulder. a Mexican thus snugly
cnveloped can nevertheless free his
fighting arm In beautifully brisk way,
merely struggling his shoulder as he
grabs for the weapon at his belt Crhey
always wear their serapGs in this man
nero
The freight smothered the rays
which, streaming from moon as large
as drum head. were struggling at the
open door. Richardson heard from the
plain the fine. rhythmlcal trample OF
the hoofs OF hurried horses. He went
to sleep wondering who rode no fast and
so late. And in the decpsilcncc the pnle
rays OF the moon must have prevailed
against the red spears OF the fire until
the room was slowly flooded TO Its mid
die with n rcctnngle OF silver light
Richardson was awakened by the
sound OF guitar. 1t was badly played
lin this land OF Mexico. from which
the romance OF the instrument ascends
to us like u perfume. The guitar was