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

1t was a September morning in southern
Colorado. Nothing could tempt Miss Van
Laer out until the mail came, and she had
been looking from her window for some
time before the sound of a shrill whistle
followed by an intermittent beat of hoofs
announced the carriers approach. Dave
Stillman clattered up on the board walk
and drew rein. The girl came down the
path with rustic of skirt and airy grace Of
motion, and, though she smiled and called
out a gay good morning" the carrier,
without as much as touching the sombrero
which darkened his face, merely held out
some letters and answered the greeting
briefly.
The mail was glanced over quickly, and
the girl showed no impotence to break a
single seal. When she looked up under
the sombrero again, the sun danced so
s~parkingly in her eyes that she raised a
hand to shade them and thus caught more
distinctly the expression Oh Dawes face.
1t was peculiarly Unconditional, much as
though a contemplating image sat upon
the face of a man who has lived long OH
the prairie.
what an air of leisure!" she cried.
Have you no more mai to deliver"
"Yes, mistress, yes-three bags full. "
Dave spoke in a tone of singsong recita-
tive, and the girl laughed merrily. "You
are a black sheep, them" she inquired.
II shan't tell you. You danced with
me last night, you know" Dawes con-
templative eyes had lighted up, and he
pushed his sombrero back on his head.
He even smiled, and the effect was almost
transforming.
swell, perhaps you'd better not tell me,
for I enjoyed that dance" There was
open, light hearted challenge in the girls
look, and a quick, daring light in the
mans eyes responded. He started to
speak, but closed his lips suddenly and
only remarked, SIT was a pretty good
party, wasn't it9" Yet through every
drop Of blood in his body Dave remember
ed that dance. Its brief duration marked
for him an experience almost painfully
exquisite. That sweet, b%ewildering, tan
talizing mystery of womanhood which
stood laughing there before him, as free
and elusive now as the wind which pulled
at her skirts and ruffled her hair, had been
last night a thing caught and held; the
sweetness Of her within touch, the mys-
terry and the bewilderment, felt with a
piercing nearness almost unbearable. The
broncho, as the reins jerked suddenly,
started forward, but was promptly refined
In. "11l be around for you tomorrow
afternoon, Dave said, and then the dust
Of his making rose -rudely about the girl.
She looked after him with quizzical brows
uplifted. She was thinking: "Well, he's
a typical character, at all events. He'll
do capitally." Some changing mood drift
ed over her face, but she seemed to drive
1t away with a disdainful "Pshaw!'' and
walked slnilingly toward the town.
Las Arras was a place of interest to
Miss Van Laer because of what she termed
its "local coloring," for the girl, though
she had done little as yet, had literary as
pirations and was determined to find, be-
sides health, material for her pen in Las
Arras. The editor Of a New York paper
had already accepted an article describing
the place itself and had suggested that she
send him a sketch of some typical oharac-
ter. Now, as she walked, the mind Of
Miss Van Laer was so full Of the subject
Of this sketch that when she returned
home she sat down and wrote it.
In beginning her work she frowned, and
even blushed, though there was none to
see. She said to herself: Nonsense, there
is no question of loyalty. l will describe
him rs he seemed to me at first. Besides
40 one who reads it will ever see him."
Although something of a caricature, the
oEQtnh vUhon HnichaA Vnyoc J1vr,ictoI ph1o
It described the mail carrier of Las Arras,
and to make him stand out the more clear
ly as a type some Of Dawes characteristics
were exaggerated a triae-small inaccu-
racies Of speech and u certain crudeness Of
manner He really danced we'll, but it
was far more typical of the place to repre-
sent him as awkward, since almost every
n else at the ball had been. To help her
work she lived over again the dance with
him, and her cheeks were crimson as she
drove the pen ahead. But the mail carrier
stood out at last, with a picturesque per-
sonality beyond any other, and the sketch
was posted before ~nightfall.
The next day was Sunday, and Dave
az he had promised, with a rough
road wagon to take Miss Van Laer driving
over the prairie. ''Just as IL we were
ranch people," the girl had suggested, and
she even wore a s%unbonnet exactly like
those she had seen the ranch people wear
when they drove to town in their great
white covered wagons. She had borrowed
1t of her landlady, and 1t in nowise de-
tracted from her charm. Dave looked into
It's depth without comment, but he was
very happy.
Dave Stillman was not q talkative man.
but something in those happy eyes which
shone from the depths Of the old sunbon-
drew him out of himself. He told the
girl some Of his mining and branching ex-
periences, and Of the long illness which
had led to his present work. stThat fever
left me at for nothing but carrying mail"
he said, "but I'm all right now and am
going to strike out again for myself. And
when I make my pile I'm going back
Miss Van Laer started. "Going back
east! Why, where is your homer"
"In Boston. Never would guess 1t,
would your" He laughed heartily. "Well, |
the life I've led does roughen a man up
some, I suppose. Don't know that any Of
my old classmates would know me even. "
"Did you 60 to Harvardp'' the girl
asked hesitatingly.
Eyes, l graduated ten years ago and
am out here as a mining engineer. The
seemed a sure thing then, and !
making money. So ! saved up and