Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1897-10-30

case was urgent. Try this I said
and handed it to him. will it fit tho
barrel of your gun? Just bit too
large, is it? A little hammering on
will make it the right shape.
while 7 bolted the tortilas AMI
friioles as fast as L could, knowing
that the quicker We got away from the
place the better, Antonio, with the
back of his axe, pounded the bullet
out so that it would go easily into the
barrel of his gun. You can see the
marks of his hammering now, and how
the ball is heightened out and not
quite round. He had the gun loaded,
with the silver bullet upon the pow
der, by the time I had finished my
supper. He blew ont the candle be-
fore he opened the door for us to start
forth, for there was no telling who
might be watching the house. Carry
ing my saddle, heavy with the silver
dollars packed in the cantinas, on his
shoulder, and with his gun in hand,
Ant0nlO leu tic way ~I.... -, s-~..-..
was picketed. He had put the saddle
on the horses back and I was just
drawing the cinch tight when heard
the shepherds warning 'Sh-hr and
looking in the direction in which he
was gazing [ saw II man OH horseback
about fifty yards away. He had stopped
his horse and sat looking at us; through
the darkness could catch the CLEAN
of the silver buttons on his jacket and
pantaloons and the silver braid on his
sombrero, and knew by these that
he was caballero, q man of preten-
sions above those of common cattle
herder. Across his saddle horn he
held carbine.
"Behind my horse Antonio dropped
to one knee and levelled his gnn be-
meath the horse at the horseman. The
stranger, perhaps detecting this move
ment, suddenly raised his carbine, and
with the motion Antonio fired. At the
explosion my horse jumped and ran,
throwing me from my feet and drag.
ging me by the riata, which 1 had not
taken from his neck. kept my hold
OH the rope and managed to bring the
horse to standstill after being dragged
a considerable distance. When I got
to my feet, good deal shaken up,
Antonio was running to me, bringing
the saddle and his gun. He clapped
the saddle on the horse and cinched
it fast.
"'For Gods sake, senor, mount
quickly, he said, and helped me into
the saddle.
"'But the mantle man you shot
at-where is hep I asked, for the
horseman was nowhere to be seen
. '"'God knows, senior. He was hit, I
know, and his horse carried him away.
That caballero-I am not mistaken,
for I have seen him Often--was Tomas
Viejada. Heaven preserve us if his
men are near
with the shepherd running ahead,
picking the way, we rode into the
shadows of spur of the mountain,
and from there made our way by
roundabout route to the estancia,
where we arrived after midnight with
ont having seen or beard anything fur
ther to cause us alarm. Next morn
ing despatched a messenger to the
nearest post of the rural guards, and
withing thirty-six hours detachment
of the rurales were on the trail of the
bandits. They tracked them night
and day and hunted them down, kill
ing seven and bringing five back, who
were tried at drumhead conrt-martial
and shot. Not one would confess
what had become of their leader, more
than to say that he was dead, and no
searching availed to find his body.
Nearly three years afterward, as l
visited my ranch, the major domo
handed me my bullet.
Miguel Quintana, the hunter,
found it in the mountains he said.
The bones Of man were lying about
as the coyotes had left them. The
bullet was in the skull. Miguel bur-
led the bones and brought the bullet
to me. We know now, senor, what
became of Tomas Viejada. '"--New
York Sun.