The Dickinson press., 1896-05-09
1AsSolHc A LOVER.
By Mrs. N. L. Rayne.


4hOoVllA0 II 0VHEK.
By Mrs. NJ. L. Rayne.
Within q very short space Of time
20 short that few have noticed Its dis
appearance-there stood a brick build
ing in the suburbs of the city Of AL
ameda, which was a wagon-shop and
q smithy combined. The place had
more than a local reputation, on ac-
count Of the excellence Of its work,
the smith being especially proficient
in his department, employing the art
of a veterinary surgeon in a rude but
successful way. Nor had he his equal
In the country for putting a shoe on a
horse, tho most fractions animal sub
hitting itself to his skilled hand with
out demonstration. Indeed, his sibi-
liant "Ps-t!" whistlcd through his
teeth in an ~indescribable manner, ac-
ted like a charm on the most unruly
equine spirit.
So Steve Damer's forge was glow
ing when others were dark and silent,
and his rivals expressed their dislike
for him, and his success in many ways.
They sneered ut him for a half-breed,
and attributed his luck to the arts of
savagry. The smith did not care.
There was only II thing on earth for
which he did care-that was his beau
tiful daughter Pauline, the stately girl,
who would have graced the most re-
fined home in the state, but who had
returned from school with N higher
ambition than to serve in her fathers
Kitchen. There vas little else to the
whole'abode, save the loft above, but
1t yAs as neat and dainty as loving
.-hdnds could make it. None Of the
neighbOring houses had such quaint
decorations. The wings Of bright
plumaged birds crossed on the walls
bow and o tied with strings of
Wampum. MOccasins of soft skins
embroidered in rare patterns, with
many-colored beads, unlike any work
done by skilled American hands. Fol
why! Pauline Damer was the daugh'
ter of an Indian princess, and inherited
her right to do such work, for her in
stincts we're those of her mothers
picturesque people, the Tulticas, whose
name means "art," and who art
neither nOmads nor idolaters, but a
people who are past-masters in all the
arts and Industries.
When the dark-skinned young wife
of Steve Damer died, he went back
to civilization to find himself an alien
and his bright-eyed baby squaw, his
little woman, an object of impertinent
curiosity.
IA marriage with a squaw is no
marriage at all in the eyes Of white
law" said the good people who sustain
missions for Christionizing the Indians
and then they signified their wiling
ness to receive the child barbarian as
q ward of the nation.
But Steve Damer was loyal to the
memory of his dead wife and her peo-
pie, and refused to part with his Paul
inc, or give her over even temporarily
to the despisers of her mothers race
He did, however, send her to school,
where she was treated well, even to
the extent Of being admired and petted
for two reasons. One was that she
was considered a sprig Of nobility how
ever rough and rude for the branch
from which she came; the other be-
cause phenomenal sums were paid for
her expenses, and her father kept him.
self out Of sight. The money was her
mothers, a heritage her father used
to make her a scholar and a lady,
which last she was by birthright.
Damer was busy in his shop, for It
was race week, and the horses needed
careful preparation for the event on
which so many thousands Of dollars
We're staked. Bendemeer had been
brought v from San Francisco to
have his shoes reftted and Nankipoo
was being shod anew on all tours,
while Son-of-a-Gun waited his turn.
Jockeys and hostlers and q few own
ers accompanied the horses. All the
talent was on hand and there was the
usual acrobatic betting, the stakes be-
Ing Of unusual importance. Little
Tough had won a five furlong race
In 1O1, the fastest time made by q
2-year-old, and Jordan had been fouled
at the head Of the stretch. So the
turn and gone. with the exception Of
key away and fingered to have q con-
fidential talk with the smith.
"Why doesn't Harlow Lincoln bring
his chestnut here to be shod?" was
the first question when they were
alone.
ASK him." answered the smith curt
ly; he knew his man and did not feel
1t was necessary to be civil.
"Have a swallow" said the other
with a disagreeable smile, extending
q handsome Silver.mounted flask to-
ward the smith.
"How do 1 know it ain't fixed?'
asked Damer su%spiciously.
"Great Caesars ghost, man, have YOU
no common sense? I want you to have
all your wits about you if-if Lincoln's
Delight Is to lose the race tomorrow.
l should think you would want to be
eve with him for all his snubs and
Sights"
Damer took a long draught from the
flask before answering. The subtlety
of the liquor entered into his heart
and brain. AS long as he let liquor
alone-and he knew 1t for a fact-he
was a decent man. When he drank
he became ugly and morose, and easily
offended. 1t was long since his last
spree. He had promised Pauline-ha!
Pauline, the thought Of her accelerated
the work Of liquor. Harlow Lincoln
had sighted Pauline in some way
Damer did not know how, but on her
coming there the young ranchman had
RMENEME0