The Goodland republic. [volume] (Goodland, Kan.) 1891-1907, 1896-05-01
DON TIBURCO'S TREASURE.

OO4s AlDO1SC1O ~ AIOLhOO4bIs
a proud descendant of a proud old
race was Don Tiburcio Tapia. His
many servants and dependents found
in him q kind but naughty master; his
many friends a chivalrous, true
hearted gentleman. Like all his
wealthy neighbors, he was lord Of vast
domains, and for oDe-half the year he
dispensed the free-handed hospitality
of those festive Spanish times within
the pueblo of Los Angeles; the other
half he spent in happy, quiet ease
among his olives and his vineyards on
the beautiful ranch of Cucamonga,
named from the frowning sierra that
forms its northern boundary wall.
And here it is that on a perfect Juns
morning Of 1915 we find him pacing
up and down the noble avenue of an
cient olives, his brows knit into an
anxious lrown, his much-perturbed
spirit finding vent in an occasional low
mutter: "Americanos Iadronesi"
"For many weeks vague rumors of
war had been waited upon the orange
scented breezes and the spirit of unrest
had invaded this paradise of peace. But
as yet it was only a vague and underlined
feeling Of mistrust, and not even in
Don Tibureio's own mind had it formed
itself into an actual and active pro-
test
But only this morning a dust-coy-
cred rider had flung the hateful words
to him which raised his ire and then
spurred his horse onward toward the
pueblo of Los Angeles.
"The Americanos have risen openly
against Gen. Castro. The flag of Mex
leo has been pulled down in the pueblo
Of Sonoma and a flag with an Oso floats
over the town."
Then the messenger had gone on to
paint the scene in vivid, fiery language,
telling of the plumber of horses and
cattle and household goods, OF the in
dignities offered proud old gray-headed
dons and their families and how some
Of their "paisanos" had been led away
by the fllibusters and imprisoned in
Suffers fort.
All of Don Tiburcio's angry spirit
ieSped TO his eyes; the proud passion of
hundred passionate ancestors rang in
the tones with which he uttered;
"Aiye, osos! demonios! Dios Dios
donde estas?" ("Aye, bears! demons!
God! God! where art Thou?"
And the messenger sped on with his
hateful message.
Now, an hour later, Tiburcio strides
up and down the Alameda de Olives, the
ares of hate still raging stormily with
IN his breast. Suddenly all anger dies
away. Don Tiburcio awakes to a sense
Of the beauty and freshness Of the
morning, the glory of the light upon
the frowning crags of the sierra, the
sparkle and flash of last nights dew
upon the glowing blossoms of the
pomegranste, the song of the hooking
birds among the orangs groves, the ten
der light of love within pair of deep
dark eyes, all conjured up by the sound
Of g sweet voice that calls from the
depths Of the grove;
''Papasito, papasito, where are your"
"Aqui, hija, aqui' (''Here, daughter,
here'l, he answers, as he hastens for
ward.
Instantly two plump arms are flung
about his neck; pair of soft, warm
hands draw down his grizzled head;
the dainty little figure in his arms
bends backward with a pretty, bird
liks gesture, then, with a glad, caress-
ing laugh, suddenly falls forward upon
his breast, and the pretty mouth is
lifted and lost in the depths of his long
beard. That kiss is Don Tiburcio's
morning benediction.
She is his priceless treasure, this win
some Marianita. Four little mounds
within the ehurchyard tell of buried
hopes, and none but the loving wife
had ever known how his proud heart
had grieYed that there were none left
to perpetuate his name. This glowing
blossom of the south she gave to him
with her last breath, and for 1e years
he has worn it upon his heart, As for
Marianita, the world for heris bounded
by tho horizon which ineleses her IA
ther. She draws him now, unresisting-
u, among the birds and flowers, and he
meath the spell Of her witching sweet
ness passion dies out Of his heart.
But later IN the day, and for
many days. the haunting thoughts rs
car, doubts arise and a purpose grows
within his mind. It had often been
whispered about that Don Tibugcio 8 as
possessed Of fabulous sums of money,
real old Spanish gold All who knew
aim were aware that his pockets al
ways jingled, and some there were who
sSad OF his counting out the pesetas
anz 0nsss IS hendtuls, Is another man