The Worthington advance., 1898-11-03
Joe'S Military Stratagem
By MARGARET SPENCER,


DAY DAY was almost at hand. Three
hundred men must receive their
monthly wages promptly. Mr.. Rogers,
the superintendent, had never failed
them, but he was now i'll with noun
tain fever. This great gold and copper
mine lay in the heart of the Tuerta
mountains, and shipped thousands of
tons of ore.
In delirium Mr.. Rogers talked con-
stantly of ''pay day and the bank at
Santa Fe." Not one white man could
be spared from the office to make the
journey, for clerks and assayer were
burdened with work during Mr.. Rog-
er's illness. None but the superintend-
ent himself had ever brought the gold
and silver into camp from the bank.
1ic was often warned of treacherous
MeXicans and Indians, but felt no fear,
III his light wagon, with swift horses,
and great sums Of money snugly slowed
away in valise or box, sometimes
marked boldly "dynamite." But now
the bank, 20 miles away, only Joe, his
son Joe, IA years old, whom he could
trust.
Twenty wild, dreary, perilous miles,
winding in and out the foothills. pass
ing Indian and Mexican villages,
across the valley, into Santa Fe.
Mother, 1 must go! I'm not one bit
afraid Sam is splendid, and such
good driver"
"But, my son, your father would
never consent. What can you do? Such
lad and through such country. 1
can't let you co."
'We've got to have corn and grain
and lot of things from the city this
week. Mother, now is just the time to
bring the money! Hurrah for Sam and
joe"
There were no telephones or tele-
graphs from the valley camp to Santa
Fe. Only the weekly mail wagon, or
special messengers brought on horse
back.
1T must be done, my boy. God will
go with you. The men must be paid,
and the camp saved from strikes and
violence. Your fathers honor is at
stake"
When the sunshine was golden over
the hills, and the snowcapped Sandals
sparkled in the distance, the boys set
out from camp. Sam, colored boy of
20, Mr.. Rogers faithful servant, drove
the fine horses, and was in charge of
Joe, the supplies and messages from the
office to the city.
"Good-by, mother!" shouted Joe, as
he stood up beside faithful Sam, in the
wagon. ''Don't worry, mother. Well
bring everything safe by tomorrow
night"
In the little log house. in the valley
camp, one mother prayed that day as
only Christian mother prays for her
boy in peril.
In one hour puffs of dust flew across
their faces, the sun went under clouds,
and sudden storm, so common in Mex
leo, swept down the valley. The wind
whirled over the tops of the noun
tains, and snow came suddenly from
the gray sky. The wind increased and
shrieked through the narrow noun
tain roads. Icy cold, and pitiless, it drove
the boys to put their faces on the bot
tom of the wagon. The horses, blind
and shivering, stood still. In half an
hour not one footprint or wagon track
was visible.
Sam shouted: Don't dare lift up
your head, Joe; keep fiat on your face. "
How long the storm lasted the boys
never knew. BY some instinct the
horses began plodding along. The sky
cleared, the wind grew less, but only
a white, trackless country lay before
them.
The boys got out and walked ahead.
The landmarks were but snowdrift's.
"Sam, I see house. It's Antone's.
Father never goes that way. It's a
saloon, and place for Mexicans to
stop. Oh, it's awful!''
Sam opened his eyes in horror, but
quietly replied:
"That's no matter; no danger to boys,
and we is goin' the wrong way, for
big money"
"The horses must be put up for the
night, and we must get warm some
where, Sam" -.,l.
"Can you keep awake, Joe, and help
watch 'em-the devils!"
"You bet can! And mother gave me
fathers little pistol, too! I haven't
been shooting at mark for nothing,
either!" .l.- ~. s...
The horses were put up. The dirty
Mexicans, playing cards around their
bottles, on their dirty table, gave the
boys place by the small fireplace. In
poor Spanish and poorer English they
made known to each other their wants.
"Antone'' and Juan looked keen
ly at the handsome lad. recognizinR