The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1898-01-16

it come to me here in the great outdoors
of God?''
The train slowed up, and she had hardly
time to collect her wandering Thoughts he
fore her brother-big. brown. hearty Ren
Allen-was beside her
Here we are, Lou" he said. min and
the horses are just beyond this round nm ),
indicating the station with a motion of his
hahd' I'm a couple of hours we'll have
you at the ranch.
rms is the way we go," said Ben as the
cayuses set off at lively gait, following
one of the many buffalo paths that inter.
sect the plains in every direction leading
to water course.
Riding at full speed directly down upon
them were two cowboys on their way to
the town of Great Falls.
Look a t the one in the white shirt ,, said
her sister. That is Dick Bennett, the
cowboy artist
This is queer place for an artist What
does he paint?" asked the Boston girl
Dick Bennett is no aesthetic artist
said her brother but wild and dissipated
lie paints things as they are-the finest
pictures and Indians and cowboys ever
made"
Louise Allen leaned forward in her seat
10 see what this man of the plains, this
cowboy artist, was like.
She saw sun-browned face whose
smooth contour was marked by lines and
traces OF the storms and passions that
had swept over it. Nor joy, nor pleasure,
nor peace, looked from the gray eyes but
a something akin to pain that stirred her
heart, IN spite of herself. Handsome yes,
with all the traces of sin upon the lace
that looked out from his broad-brimmed
hat, it was one to live for-yes, to die
for-thought the girl, and his dress lent
to 1t a picturesque charm.
The white flannel shirt, whose collar
was rolled back from a strongly rounded
throat, the knotted sash about his waist,
the high top boots, with the spurs that
made little clinlxing sound, the strange
ness, the newness of the surroundings, all
appealed to the romantic nature of the
girl.
Ben held up his hand, and the cowboy
artist drew rein beside them. When he
spoke TO her, it seemed to the girl that
she expanded with new life, and when she
turned her brown eyes full upon him in all
their Turing witchery. Dick Bennett turned
his face carelessly away that she might
not see the white excitement upon it.
Their meetings were frequent after that.
He told her how he began to paint; now.
in company with another cowboy, he had
charge of a herd of cattle on a ranch on
the plain, owned by a man in Helena
During the severe winter of 1885 the
owner asked for a statement of the herds
condition. His companion was afraid 10
tell of the disasters that had befallen
them.
81 answered it, Louise" said Dick, "by
taking a pencil. l drew on a piece OF pa
per the picture of steer in storm,
starved lean and hardly able to stand, ana
wrote under it, The last of the five thou
sand That was our answer, and that
picture made me an artist. 1t was photo
graphed and sold by thousands"
She saw him painting on the tops of bar
rels, anywhere, when the inspiration was
on him, and every day she loved him more
Each day she went to their meeting place.
and the sun traced the pattern of the cot
tonwood trees leaves on the grass at her
feet. Every night she sank to rest she
murmured Sweet, sweet tomorrow wl
bring him to tell me that he has decided TO
leave these plains and go with me to STUDY
art SO month went by, and despair was
fast sezing upon her. She had gone LOT
the last time to the scene of their love ana
sank on her knees beside the COTTONWOOD
tree, great agony on her features.
On the other side of the tree lay DICK
Bennett watching her. the muscles OF MS
mouth tWtching painfully for a moment
Then he drew himself up to his feet Inc
two lifted their heads at nearly the same
moment and looked full into each other
eyes. What did they read there? was Inc
silence between them the sweet silence OF
love when she has all to give? The girls
silence was that of fear, for she knew
that whether one went or both stayed an
her heart all her thoughts would remain
with him on these plains where she hau
loved, and, God pity her, where she sun
loved In spite of all her troubles.
The mans was that of despair, his way,
ward past a grave between them. He couIu
not poison the future of the woman ne
adored by dragging her into It, He hau
fought his fight. The strong touch OF chl.-
airy i'm his nature had triumDhed. ne
would stay with the plains his horse ms
guns, his brush such as he could not POI
Lutte, and she, God help her, she must go.
'Honors are easy, my girl, but nor lor
such as me. There Is a dividing line pc
tween the good and the bad. I'm on one
side and you're on the other. 1 cant eros
TO YOU, and I swear to God by my love 10.
you never to drag you over to ME. stay
and you gor'