The Worcester spy. [volume] (Worcester, Mass.) 1898-1904, 1899-03-12

/ try was beset by dangers. They add
ed, however, that the cavalry We're
securing the territory and all strong
posts were well garrisoned.
After having been on the road several
days the party struck fresh pony trails
1t was evidently war party, and
much apprehension existed. A detour
was decided upon, as Stafford had in
nina ranch where a strong force
OF cattlemen could always be found. 1t
was nearly noon when Bill first saw
bad signs, The mules We're aban-
doned and the ponies forced to their
utmost speed.
forced march when the quick, sharp
yell of the Apaches was heard-a war
party of 60 or 20; braves We're in hot
pursuS. Now and then Bill, with his
race ataWn and white, but a CLEAN
OF malignant hatred in his eyes, would
turn in his saddle, bring his Winches-
ter to his shoulder, and the scream
which followed the report told plain
ly the story of the bullets flight.
The Apache ponies We're fresh. The
prospectors' outfit was underfed and
weary. Slowly the thunder of those
three-score hoofs grew louder and
louder, and the three men were rapid
ly becoming within Indian range. The
purpose of the war party to take the
men alive was apparent The ranch
was not far distant. but it was doubt
full if sufficient time could be gained
to safely reach. it. 1t was useless to
thrash the horses. They were doing
their best. At last, when hope was
nearly abandoned Fletcher, turning to
Stafford, said
Here, you take the babe I'll wait
behind the next turn where the canon
narrows and hold those devils long
oh tn 1nf M
the ranch If I don't and they pick
you up, kill the child"
Both men protested that Fletcher
should go and leave them, but he was
obdurate. 1t was no time for argu-
ment. The war party was approach
ing rapidly. Fletcher slipped from his
pony allowing it to run with the rest,
saddleless, and handing Bill the child,
kissed her fondly.
you'll take care of her, Bill, when
I'm gone" he said, land never let her
want for anything, as her mother has.
God bless you. partners Goodbye"
Later the sullen. hateful bang Of the
Winchester the spiteful, nasty crack
of the Colt, told the men that Fletcher
had engaged the enemy. Each scream
showed where his aim had sent red
devil. but at last family yet percepti-
bly, and despite the distance the long
yell that fioated up the canon made
the men shudder in their saddles Tom
Fletcher was dead. The ranch was
reached. Tallyen and Stafford held a
consultation. Amelia was to be sent
to a convent in Nebraska, and she was
to take Stafford's name.
Cause we see, rome, Fletcher
amt her right name anyhow" said
Bill.
Both men solemnly and simply vowed
with a western handshake to work and
support her and both began with a will.
Stafford moved to Utah and then to
Montana, while Tallyen went into
Mexico and in 10 years died from fever
but he left Amelia % fortune Of consl-
derable amount. Stafford left mining
alone and entered the great whirl of
railroad contracting when the boom
fever was in the west. Shrewd and
with the love Of Amelia as an incen-
tive, he accumulated much wealth. As
the girl grew older she became the
more beautiful and nothing was spared
to make her education complete She
was sent east and finally abroad.
Then her father-or at least the only
father she had ever known-told her in
detail-the detail he remembered so
well-the story of her fathers and
mothers deaths. Possessed of an am
pie fortune, for two years Miss Stat
ford has been wandering through the
east, west and south ever inquiring
ever anxious to find out who and what
her parents were. She came to De-
troit not particularly to make inves-
legations. but to visit an old friend who
attended the same school in New York.
| She was here three weeks and left the
more discouraged.
ut isn't because I expect to find out
anything in Detroit" she said, "but the
| leaving OF one place to go to another
always makes me desperately lonely. I
| shall go to Atlanta and thence to ST.
| Augustine, where I will be met by Mr..
Stafford. He always declared that my
mother was a sOutherner, and / hope
to find some trace of her some day in
the south. This summer Mr.. Stafford
and I are going to my mothers grave
and despite everything, if he can lccate
1t, ] shall have a monument erected.
why my parents We're compelled to
go west: who they are: from whence
they came or why ! do not know, and
yet yearn to discover. OF this I am GER
tain-that my mother was a good
woman. All she could not have been
otherwise. We know enough Of her
life and death to testify to that and
> when Mr.. Stafford relates again and
again the manner Of her end it brings
to mind all the beauty of that old Per-
sian poets quatrain, when he said:
"'Yet. ah! that spring should vanish
with the rose,
That youths sweet scented manuscript
should close;
The nightingale that in the branches
sang,
All, whence and whittier flown again
who knows?
Thew yyera waiting IN tho cor,or 90