The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1901-10-17

\
afraid I shall have TO ask one of your
hopefuls to ride over to the Bar z
outfit with the news. I've broken
my arm
But you don't mean that you've
been here all night" she said, in dis
may, noticing that his face was white
and drawn with pain.
Yes, I-you needn't waste any pity
on me. 1t was my own fault" he
said, gruffly, flushing to the roots of
his hair.
Miss Forsyth's eyes grew grave.
She was from New England, and at
heart the Puritan instincts of her an
cestors still swayed her. She under
stood him to mean that he had been
intoxicated at the time, and her heart
rebelled against the weakness of this
debonair young man with the splendid
eyes of fire. 1t was bad enough for
the other cowmen to get on their year
| ly tears" but for a man with dor
mant possibilities like this one the
| sin was the greater. At the same
time she confessed to herself that she
was vel SlCdlll III NV
young fellow lying on the ground be-
fore her and looking up at her with the
cynical sardonic smile and the eyes so
full of scorn at himself.
Henley on his part was also very
much taken with this rather fine-look-
ing young woman whose manner was
unconsciously so eloquent of judg-
/ hin, ho1 hoar 1nncr TINA
since any woman of that type had
been interested enough in him to care
whether he went to the dogs or not.
| Indeed, a woman had started him
there in the first place by jilting him
for more eligible match. Some APP
pealing quality in her gray eyes
stirred him now to say, with the ironic
CLEAN in his eye:
"A fine specimen, is it not, Miss
Forsyth? You'll have q chance to
study the remittance man at his best,
you know. One of the most prolific
products of the Rocky mountain re-
gion is the remittance man, originally
an exotic transplanted at great ex-
pense from England for his family's
good"
you mustn't talk that way-as if
you didn't care she said, gently.
''Do you happen to care?" he asked
her, looking out of bold unabasheo
eyes.
She flushed uneasily. "Of course I
care at seeing such waste of human
life. 1t is one of the saddest things l
have ever seen"
He drew long breath and
groaned.
rs your arm paining you very
much ?" she asked.
"Arm? MOI" he said savagely.
whats broken arm to shout about?
I'm doing the baby act because Heav-
ems opened to me after I've elected
hell"
That was the last of Jim Henley's
"sprees." He fought his fight out
grimly and won. Even the Christmas
season passed without the usual ioli-
| fication. But, oddly enough, the
friendship between Henley and Miss
Forsyth did not progress. Perhaps
the memory of that morning when she
had found him a victim of his own
weakness rose as barrier between
them. At any rate there was a subtle
reserve in their speech and manner
that grew greater rather than less.
Then came the great blizzard in the
San Joaquin valley. All day the storm
had been growing worse and by the
afternoon it had developed into biz
zard in which no living thing could be
out and retain life. At the Bar 2
ranch they worked like Trojans to get
things ship-shape for the night. and
| just before dusk Henley dropped into
| his chair weary man.
He was up again like a flash, for it
had come to him suddenly that Miss
Forsyth might be still at the school
house. To the amazement of his men
and despite their protests he mounted
and rode to the ranch house where she
stayed. She had not arrived. They
were in great fear for her, but no man
cared to venture out into the howiing
blizzard, for they counted it sure
death.
How Jim Henley fought his way to
cumbed and he pushed on alone; how
| the bitter cold and the uncomfortable
wind took the sap of life out of him;
how he fell and rose and fell again,
still fighting forward step by step
against the grimmest enemy that ever
man conquered; howhe found Lyndona
Forsyth in the drift all but dead, and
won at length to the schoolhouse with
her; how they were together for three
days without food except some few
scraps, cut off from a rescue by the
raging blizzard, and how next spring
the Methodist minister at the Half
Way house Joined in wedlock James
Marlborough Henley and Lyndona For
syth, the ranchers of the valley still
delight to tell.
On Another Road.
A ticket collector on a railway got
L