Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1897-12-16

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amt your funeral nor mine. Say.
young Teller. what'll yer take?
Nothin'? Wa'al, suit yerself."
Three miles above the ranch where
Jack lived was another. of rather bet
ter character as regarded its buildings,
which stood close to the bed of the
creek. 1t belonged to man named
Simpson. Most people liked him; few
knew him well. There was a vague
impression abroad that Simpson had a
history, and that his ownership of a
Western ranch was but an episode In a
life far different from that which most
of his neighbors had been born to; but
there was that about him which re-
PEELED inquisitiveness. His cattle were
numerous and in good condition; he
was active and efficient in the round
up, but his patronage of the Arcade
saloon was of the scantiest, and he
was somewhat eccentric in the making
up of what in another and more formal
state of society would have been a
visiting-list. Those, however, who
had enjoyed the Inequalities of Simp-
sons ranch had much to say of wife
who often wore "store Clothes" and
of a daughter of about nineteen, as
pretty girl, 1t was reported, as had
ever been seen from Denver down 10
Cucharas, and as bright as the sun
light on the plains Not many had
seen her; few still knew her; yet her
fame had gone abroad. She was gra-
ciously idealized; she was held to be-
long, in a sense, to the region; and
there was not cowboy on the range
who would not have broken lance
Tor, what was far more practical,
his gum as her champion.
Among the visitors at Simpsons
Ranch we may be sure that Jack Rey-
nolds was numbered. His first visit
was made at notable time in its
history. Two days before (stopping to
return a horse which he had found
straying) he had made the acquain-
lance of the family. Simpson him
self had suddenly gone away. He had
been in Pueblo, and the postmaster
stated at the Arcade that he had re-
ceived large and thick letter, but he
was a little misty as to the postmark.
That night Simpson departed. Some
people thought he rode little to the
and took train at small
station. A theory that he secreted
himself in a freight car also found
supporters. But one individual, and
he was half inebriated, had suggested
suicide, and he had been promptly
elected from the saloon by the force
of public opinion.
Months and months had passed, and
Simpson had not appeared. Wonder
grew as to his whereabouts; much
curiosity was engendered as to the
condition and feelings Of his family,
and no little effort was made to graft
fly this curiosity. Whatever the wife
and daughter, thus seemingly deserted,
may have felt, however, they gave no
sign to visitors. No one was there
half so often as Jack Reynolds, and
there was a general, if unspoken, SEN
timent abroad that this was as 1t
should; also that 1t would be alike i'm
proper and futile to seek for any in
formation about Simpson from him.
No better test, indeed, could there be
of the esteem in which he was held
than this rare self-abnegation.
Again several months passed, and
still there appeared no Simpson. His
neighbors were more puzzled, more
curious, more hopelessly in the dark,
than ever, and they began to feel ag-
grieved. Broncho Sam had been voic-
ing this sentiment, in conversation
with his assistant, when he made the
declaration with which this story
opens, and which was preceded by an
other.
81 jest tell yer" said he, that when
a man lights out and leaves sech a
good -appearin' wife an sech a pooty
little gal ez is up to Simpsons, an
don't send 'em no word, it's
playin it pretty low on 'em, onless
he's got a blamed good reason for a
doin' So"
That he would discuss this point
with Jack was highly improbable.
They talked of cattle and the seasons
prospects, and there was no word OF
Simpson during the plain supper or
the placid pipe-smoking which fol-
lowed. When they turned in" the
sky was overcast, and during the night
there came a gale of wind which al
most shook the house. 1t was in the
gray of early morning that violent
knocking at the door brought all three
men to their feet alert in an instant.
Jack was the first at the door, and
opened 1t. A man stood there holding
the bride of a painting horse. His
words were few and to the point.
There had been a storm and cloud
burst in the mountains; the great
reservoir which fed the irrigating
bitches was in imminent peril; there
would be a terrible "wash-out" in the
valley.
Have you warned them at Simp-
son's?" asked Jack, breathlessly.
II came the other way"
Broncho Sam had his eyes on jack
face, and saw the color leave it. He
rose to the occasion in an instant.
Eyer kin do it, my boy" said he;
"but jest yer ride like Jehu. Git yeI
boots on, an I'll have the saddle on
Comanche."
In five minutes Jack, with his head
bent TO the blast, was squirting his
horse wildly up the valley.
There was nothing aesthetic about
the external appearance of Simpson,
ranch. The architecture of the hous'
was of the early cowboy period, will
suggestions of that Of the minins