Santa Fe new Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1898-1951, 1898-02-05

promptly tore 1t In half. Short as il
was 1t completed his discontinue fol-
that day. He laughed ~unpleasantly and
drew his gun toward him.
"Better make wadding of it,"
At sight of the drawn ramrod and
the white wad of paper disappearing
down the black throat Of the shotgun,
Sarah Jane drew in her lolling red
tongue and sprang to her feet. Evident
ly she had mastered one opinion in her
short life and made it securely her own.
Guns and birds were the c~orollary of
each other, and her hour for self asser-
ton had arrived.
With the Jealous indiscretion of am
bilious ignorance she leaped in among
the trampled pea vines, and with her
slender nose held close to the ground
careered wildly over the field, setting
at defiance Adrien's harsh demand for
her return. II her d~isobedience had
borne no fruit, it might possibly have
gone unpublished, but when a promising
covey Of birds wheeled, startled and
terrified, close to Adrien's head and
scudded off to take shelter in the more
distant cornfield, the measure of his
wrath was complete.
Evidently Sarah Jane and he took
differing views Of the situation. With
the triumphant mien Of a conqueror
who had routed the enemy she came
leaping back to his side. Instead Of lau-
rels a rod awaited her. Crestfallen, with
soft deprecating eyes lifted to the stormy
face above her, the setter crouched to
receive her first lesson.
Quick and fast fell the blows from the
ramrod held in Adrien's firm fingers.
He had been defied-the Decalogue held
no darker crime. Sarah Jane was to re-
ceive the overflow of the discomfort that
had been accommodating all that morn
ing. With one hand he held the silken
brown head in a merciless grasp. His
handsome face was empurpled with the
violence Of his rage and the exercise.
Sarah James yelps Of agony were min
gled with his short painting breathings.
His strength was almost spent. High in
air he lifted the rod fora supreme effort.
lone more, d-n you, and then per-
haps you will know who is master"
But the rod did not descend. 1t was
caught from his grasp by an invisible
hand behind him and a girls clear voice
in denunoiation was added to the dis
cord.
"You are a cruel wretch, Adrien
Strong, and 1t would only be serving
you right if you could be paid back in
your W coin. There, and there, and
there"
A cracking Of broken wood, and the
fragments Of his ramrod flew piecemeal
from the iron crosspiece Of the fence
against which it had been struck with
furious force.
Adrien faced about hurriedly. He
knew Of no one who would thus dare to
interfere with his discipline, surely not
his mother, scarcely his grandfather.
Standing on the moss grown brick
wall behind him was a vision altogether
out Of keeping with its surroundings.
1t was Liza Martin, silhouetted in gray
serge garb and red fringed turban
against the dark greenery Of the grave
yard. Her eyes and cheeks We're afiame
with indignation as she flung the last
splinter of his broken ramrod at his feet
and brushed her Redeemed palms against
each other to free them from dust and
splinters.
The stormclouds on Adrien's face
gradually passed away. 1t was such an
exceedingly comical turn he was ready
to laugh. Such transitions came easily
to him. But the girl S face was too stern
yet awhile for him to venture upon pre-
mature mirth. Of course this must be
Eben Martins daughter. He regarded
himself as a good judge of female beau
ty, and this girl, who stood there calm
ly adjusting her displaced cuffs, filled
his most rigid requirements.
"Who are your" he asked, quite un-
necessarily.
II am Eliza Martin, Governor
Strong's overseer's daughter. l have
been prowling about here. The views
are pretty from this point. My brother
Seth left me here when he went by with
the wagon to haul cotton to the gin. /
am waiting for him to pick me up Oh
his return. / come here to sketch very
often. You have spoiled it for me. /
am telling You this SO that you need
not think I went out of my way to in
terfere. l was in there with Gabrielle
when l heard your murderous blows.
At school l was vice president of a SO.
ciety for the prevention of cruelty to
animals. We don't have such societies
here at home, but I know of no place
where IL is more needed than in this
plantation. Poor, poor doggy
All this time Adrien was thinking
much more about the girl herself than
about what she was saying.
Yes, she was pretty, the prettiest
girl by long odds he had seen since leav.
ing college. Rather self possessed-that
was the strong mindedness, he supposed,
that his grandfather complained Of. Her
voice was marvelously sweet, however,
and clear. He should like to hear it
again. Even when denouncing his bru-
tally it had never once risen to shrill-
ness.
II think you need not change your
sketching ground, Miss Martin. I am at
home very little and hunt still less. l
was trying to walk off a fit of i'll temper