River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1901-10-10

and Dixon cruel. But she knew what
it cost him to be so, and more stead
lastly resolved she would never leave
him alone. She knew how it would
he with him, unable to move hand or
foot, lying all day in the little rough
cabin, the men away bounding over
the plains, or in bad weather quarrel
ing and gambling, a lot of dirty,
! half-breed ''greasers," surly and
| grudging in their care as they
grew more Iired of him. She threw
herself upon him in a paroxysm of
tempestuous grief. She didn't ca for
herself, she vowed; she didn't care for
her fathers wrath or disinheritance.
or what people thought of her course.
She could not leave him, and would
stay with him as long rs he lived,
whatever the consequences.
Nevertheless, the preparations for
her departure drew nearer completion
every day, and she was forbidden to
even speak of remaining behind She
would have defied her father and
stayed unhesitatingly, but Dixon was
even more unrelenting than Fernan-
| do, on the ground that she was hurt
| ing him beyond endurance with the
| thought of so recklessly throwing
away her life, more precious to him
than any one else.
The parting came. Fernando's APP
| prehensions OF one of her unbridled
outbusts of temper. which usually
lasted days, or until the camp was
| brought to submission, were unbound
ed. Tige had ceased to be child
and was now a woman. To make
amends for his apparent harshness in
repulsing her proffered sacrifice, and
thankful that she had yielded to rea-
son. DiXon's manner was full of ten
derness on this, their last happy day.
Together they went back over the
history of their lives since Dixon
rode down from the Sobrante grant.
the happy "tom-boy" days that fol-
lowed, then their last ride when they
were returning home through the
golden plains in the glow of the early
summer sunset, both carefully avoid
ing any allusion to DiXon's accident
For the first time in all these long
months. Tige's happy laughter rang
through the cabin, for each was de-
termined their last moments should
not be saddened by the shadow of the
parting that was to come with the
morning.
Finally, this last day, too, Drew to
a close, and everything was in readi-
ness for an early start in the morn
ing. When the house was quiet and
every one asleep, Tige arose and stole
like wrath into DiXon's room.
moment she bent over him. devouring
him with her eyes. In the clear, sill
yer light of the moon not the least de-
tail was lost; the burrows on the
broad forehead, from which the heavy
locks had fallen, the strained look
about the mouth that had come the
last few months from the mental an
guish he had suffered, and the help
iessness-the utter helplessness-of
this great, splendid fellow. For that
very reason there was touch of the |
maternal in her love. How she yearned
to take his head upon her breast and
caress him, Groom over him, sooth
the anguish out of his soul at any
cost.
As she bent over him he muttered
something in his sleep. With the
Iuickness and agility of an Indian she
crouched in the shadow until his
breathing grew deep and regular
again. Then she arose and came near
er. The horror of the life that lay
before him, and her own inability to
alleviate it in any way, surged over
her with a fresh poignancy. She
threw out her arms and ground her
teeth to choke back the cry that rose
to her lips. No, she could not leave
him, friendless and alone, to become
q burden to those about him. an OBJ
iect of charity to his friends, and,
finally, of contempt. Resignation had
no place in her hot, young blood She
was not of the tame, patient sort that
submits unquestioningly to the work
ings of fate. This was Dixon, the man
she loved with all her heart. and
with all her soul, and with all her
strength" and there was only one
way to save him.
Slipping stealthily along the wall
to the shelf where his belt hung, she
reached for his revolver, examining
it carefully to see that it was loaded.
With hands that did not tremble she
covered his heart with the muzzle
and shut her eyes. Dixon slept on
peacefully, unconscious of her pres
ence. If he had muttered in his sleep
again. if there had been the slight
est noise from the outside, the zap of
a coyote or the bark of a dog her
courage might have failed her; but
as she bent over him there was not a
sound nor a sigh. A still white noon
light lay over the plains.
Thus a moment passed. She still
might spare him and no one would
ever know how near she had come 20
being his deliverer or murderer
which? Should she let him live out
long life of slow dying, OF nerci-
fully end it now? She did not turn
again to look at him, she could not.
but with a quick in-drawing of her