The Dupuyer acantha. [volume] (Dupuyer, Mont.) 1894-1904, 1899-08-24

be cut out and fed to the vultures as
a warning to the world that a Caste
NADIA is not to be trihed with? Tell me
the tackals name!" "Tiburcio Pal
ma, the terrible gran embustero,
%senor," replied the maid, quaking with
fear of the greenish light that came
into the old mans eyes. "Tlburcio,
senor, who stole also your pinto geld
ing not three days ago." Away! The
fur flew in that COW camp. Men were
sent for in all directions, some to En-
senda for rurales; some to the pineries
to head off the mighty Tiburcio from
the trail running down to the ranch
of his parientes, the Gomezes of San
Juan de Dios; some up to the line to
warn the Americans that the greatest
smuggler might be headed in their d.
r~ection, and some to the village of
Zecate to lay hands on the marauder
should he ride that way. In Zecate
the whole population leaned against
walls and shook at the knees when the
two Castenada cowboys dashed up in
a cloud of dust and announced what
had happened over at the rancho. Tt
burcio had not gone that way-no, in
deed, but the people wished he had. He
never would have gone through alive
with the beautiful Tonia as captive.
Everybody knew Tonia and everybody
knew Tiburcio. 1t was impossible
that the two could go far together
without being stopped. Did the cow
boys want any help? Motley would
merely pause long enough to telephone
the news to Campo, where it was soon
buzzing from mouth to mouth, along
the streets and into the customs Of
fees, flying from the tongue of Mexi-
can and American alike until the Of
ficials got hold of 1t and set about to
aid the Castenada boys in their venge-
full search. Messengers were sent
hither and yon, notifying every man on
the border from Tia Juana to Jacumba.
The Americans wanted the famous
Palma on two charges-smuggling and
murder. They still want him. All the
week they kept watching for him,
guarding every known trail night and
day. They knew that he might try to
sneak through the chaparral in the
night or swim the Tia Juana, or come
up the st. Denis, SO they kept their
lights trimmed and burning. Appar-
emily everything was done that could
be done-yet he got away. The last
reported glimpse of him was old Donna
Maxima's view of the pinto gelding and
its two riders as they disappeared VI
the lane by the Castenada garden. The
old woman mutters something about
spirits meeting them at the end of the
lane and taking them down through
the ground into another world-where
at she devoutly crosses herself ant
clings to the arms of her big rocking
chair; and the don himself sweari
moodily and stares ~vacantly at the spo
she points out to him where the pint'
gelding vanished from the eyes of men
From that day to this Tonia Caster
ada has been dead to those who knew
her such a little while ago as the fair
est belle of North Mexico. No longe
does her prattle sound through tn
quaint old house below Canyada Verde
nor the laughter of her soft, sweet voic
ripple among the flowers of the garden
Cruz alone roams sadly along the patl
where she and Tonia stood on the fata
day Tiburcio rode down the lane; an
Cruz weeps when the hateful picture o
that dark, mocking face leers out a
her from the shadows of the pain
trees.
The cowboys of the Castenada ran
cho logged back home with a deser
thirst that required large libations @
mescal del orc to appease it; and oil
Don Emilio and Donna Maxima still
sit on the piazza and listen to the tale
they tell at eventide of the fearsom
days and nights they spent on tn
phantom bandits trail.
Stood His Ground.