Santa Fe new Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1898-1951, 1899-05-19

ceptlOn OF MIN. Phase after phase of her
article, describing and caricaturing the
man, came to her mind, and tho color
blazed out on her face. Dave, however,
took comfort from her silence. To him it
was eloquent of interest and sympathy.
He leaned nearer and said gently: 1T
isn't much of a story, but that's the past.
I'm young yet and strong as ever now l
could do anything if-if'-- There was a
pregnant pause. He was going faster thar
seemed wise. "If l had the right incen-
tive, you knowp' Ending thus, he made an
abrupt transition of thought by pointing
to a rugged mountain peak and remark
ing that he had been lost up there once in
a snowstorm. The story of his adventure
followed and launched them on the safe
stream of narration. When the two drove
back into Las Arras, the sun was just
dropping behind Taylor's peak, and the
quiet of a days ending was enfolding the
town.
Miss Van Laer did not write up her
drive over the prairie. There were no
words within her reach which could por-
tray the wonder of it. Her thoughts
dwelt on that cleaning line of mountain
peaks as on the pathway to some heavenly
city, and the white glory of the Spanish
peaks seemed as the portals thereof, re-
vealed for them alone. The generous en-
wrapping of the warm sunshine, the ten
der touch and trail Of each passing cloud
shadow, had been for them also. All, all
was a part of something which others
could not know-the same old earth, but
with the eyes Of a new birth turned upon it.
Dave Stillman's broncho stopped of his
own accord now outside one house on the
route, and If those who lived farther on
did not complain because of mails delayed
no credit is due the carrier.
1t was morning and nearing mailtime.
Miss Van Laer stood at her window watch
ing, and Dawes whistle sounded down the
street. As the carrier drew near the girl
came leisurely down the path to meet
him. Dave first handed her several letters
from New York. Then he pushed his
sombrero farther back on his head and
surveyed the girl with knocking, curious
eyes.
From the lips that smiled ut him there
dropped a laughing "Well2"
Here's a paper, too," he said and
handed it over with deliberate care. II
didn't know you were a writer"
The girl felt a frightened movement at
her heart and drew breath quickly. She
glanced at the paper she held and then
could not lift her eyes from it.
"Why, what do you mean2" Her effort
to express surprised Indifference was a
fiat failure. Perhaps she blushed for that.
The words had faltered out as though she
were a scolded child.
"Oh, that sketch of me, you know! It's
really very clever"
"That sketch Of your Oh, surely you
don't think"-
"Please don't, Miss Van Laer." His
voice was grave, almost authoritative. 1t
seemed to end the sentence, "Don't lie
about it," but certainly the words were
not spoken.
"How did you see it?"
sob, l didn't open yours" he laughed.
II got one of my own. A cousin of mine
who lives in New York knows I carry
mail here, and he thought it was a good
joke on me. I heard from him yesterday.
OF course he didn't think it was really
meant for me. You call your town Ell
Moro, and he says the mail carrier there
must be the very image of his own dear
cousin"
The girl trembled with helpless NORTH
cation and pain. This light hooking was
worse than anger. 1t played in the mans
quick hazel eyes and froze all the warmth
out of them. Miss Van Laer looked in his
face, and even as she read the GOODNESS
there she read also as in a flash the secret
of her own emotion. 1t was a cruel mo-
ment for such a revelation. The swift IL
Illumination Of her thought had separated
the mail carrier, in her mind, from all the
rest of the world. Now from her also he
was suddenly remote. Drawing nearer
the horse, she laid her hand on the saddle
and looked up with quivering fortitude.
"Please forgive me. 1 could not do it
now. 1t is not as you seem to me now at
ALL"
Although her voice ended in a pitiful
break, Dave regarded her calmly. Eyes"
he said slowly, II suppose I do seem diff
ferent to you since you know that I'm a
college chap and all that, but I did not
tell you for the sake Of making an impress
sion. I told you because-well, because
you seemed interested, and it doesn't real
ly make u particle of difference, you know.
Friendship is friendship all the same, and
that-he touched the paper she held with
tho butt of his whip-isn't my idea of
friendship! didn't know you were look
ing around for material, or l wouldn't
have given myself so cheap. How much
did you get for that?'
The girls eyes had fallen from his face.
Tears welled in them and overlooked.
"Please don't"-
well, | think you might divvy up, you
know, but l dom press that point. You'll
find lots Of material around hero, I guess,
and can make capital out of all the folks
you meet. But that kind Of vivisection,
as l say, isn't just my idea of friendship.
Well, goodby, Miss Van Laer. l guess
I've given you about enough literary ma
The broncho was about to start off, but
the girl laid q hand on the bit. Her head
was thrown back, and her eyes flashed in
his.
mo, no!'' she cried. you have al
ready given me more! / can write now
that the mail carrier of Las Arras is un-
and cruel; that She paused
for words which would cut deep.
''That the poor fool loved the girl from
New York; p Dave broke in, throwing the
words at her bitterly.
But at this the girl 8 face became trans
formed, and as he gazed at her the defiant
mood of the man changed to one Of in
credulous wonder. She had drawn close
to the broncho's side and was looking up
at Dave with a light in hor eyes like the
soft, steady glow of dawn. The man felt
bewildered. He leaned nearer, breathing
quickly.
"And the girl from New York" began
Miss Van Laer softly. Then. she paused
"Say It'll" cried Dave. He felt indeed
it could not be true and longed for
the very words.
Rnt the uirl,a avaa hal nniuared aud