Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1901-08-30
The Horror of
Three Sandals.

By Charles Fleming Embree.

THE old sluggish monster of revolu-
i ton. long since drug ICED to sleep.
some think to death, yet sometimes
stirs. It's movements are dream-move-
ments, its snake-ike convolutions are
harmless. It is merely the habit of
the dead past, when Diaz was not yet
Power, which causes the beast to
heave it's lethargic signs and open up.
from time to time, red orb devoid
of meaning.
Up over the Cuernavaca railroad
comes now the military detachment
lately sent into Guerro. The little
company eats dinner by the Cuerna-
vaca station. Five lank soldiers in
sandals sit at a distance on the
ground and, whereas all the others
are gay, these five sit depressed with
gloom, recalling strange thing.
The heart of Guerrero, state of
golden miracles, is not yet opened to
the world. Mountains and mysteries
shut it away from modern life. Away
down south, two hundred miles from
the railroad, is the town of Three
Sandals. Into it came, five years ago,
an American named Stirge. He bought
q mine and worked it all alone, and
they said he stacked up gold in an
adobe house as high as the roof. He
was tall, with sil1en beard, feline
grace, mild, deep, unreal eyes. Gold
turned his head; gold made his house
an empire, Three Sandals the center
of the universe. He dreamed of sever
ing this southern land from Mexico,
and insane ideas of a monarchy came
to him.
The chief of police was fat and
fabby, and often full of pulque. He
lived in a large house on the plaza by
the palms. His sister was beauty,
aged nineteen, named Otilia.
''Otilia, I call you a failure" COM
planned the chief. drinking three
quarts of pulque in the patio, while
she lounged lanquid under those enor-
nous yellow flowers called "cups-of-
gold" "Manjarrez killed himself for
you. Elias slew Negrete for you:
Olivares robbed the hacienda to buy
you ruby, and was shot. The gov
ernor at Chilpancingo made a fool of
himself for you. Bah! what good is
all this if you can not find out the
revolutionary schemes of that cursed
American, and save my reputation. I
want to kill him, and, alas!" with a
comic shrug, spilling pulque-"there
is no way"
'Hang him by his sweet, soft beard,
Pepe, my love-" said she, with smile.
''But!-the shadow of an excuse!
know he plots, but never finger can
I lay on him. Make him fall in love
with you, witch; worm it out of him.
Our reputation is at stake
She dreamed, lying there graceful,
beautiful, mischief in her languid eye.
81 WILL" she said, and plucked cup
of-gold, and buried her flushed face
therein.
Every evening at six she wrapped
herself in black rebozo so that eyes
glowing and portions of face arti-
ficially pale were seen beneath 1us-
trous hair. Then, solemn, sad, a NOV
ing statue, she walked to and fro, to
and fro, before the Americans house.
When he stood in the door strol1ing his
silken beard and gazed on her, she
nodded slowly, as though unseeing,
and sighed a heavy sigh. At dusk,
having walked to and fro for an hour,
she sighed more heavily still and went
away.
After one week of this mystery, the
form of Otilia began to haunt him.
She was very beautiful, said he. There
were lurking in her eyes vast dreams,
restlessness, towering ambitions-ah!
like his own, like his own. He tossed
in the night, somehow drawn to her.
After all, was it good to be lonely?
With such mate to what grand
heights might any man not soar! So
from seeing her by chance, he came
to watch for her, and>when she passed
his hand was frozen On his beard, or
burned with fire that ran in all OF
his blood. Meanwhile a plan to over
throw the towns authorities, to
gather men, to march on Chilpancin-
go, took form. Two officers nearest
the person of the chief were Stirge's
fellow-plotters.
On, the eighth evening of this NOV.
ing to and fro, wrapped in mystery
she let her rebozo wave a little wider
open. He was devouring her with his
eyes. He was like god. strong and
full of grace. Her sweet lips were
pinkish; her neck was white. She
sighed, but she looked on him with
quick flames bursting from her eyes
The street was lonely. He stepped
out and layed his long slim fingers or
her arm. She paused, and they gazed
at one another.
''Otilia, some dread thing haunt.
you"
Eyes, senior" Her eyes were down
''Otilia, great weight is on you.
am one used to speaking out. WheI
God puts fire into mans heart, the
man should never hide it, lest it burr
him. Otilia, seem to see myself il
your eyes. Heart of my heart, Low.
you"