Waterbury Democrat., 1902-02-07

quicker he crossed the pra1rles the l happier they would be- He took his supper at Harper's and refused an in- vitation to spend the night there at 1 a sitting of cribba ge.
 eI am going to Blue Duck tonight" /" he said, 'and finish nay route by to- morrow night. Letters are worth more than food out there, I think He filled his pipe, bundled himself into his sledge, gave his ponies the rein, and they struck out over the plain at a rapid pace. Torson's head was hooded in fur, but there were openings for the eyes, nose and mouth. He could look down at the bowl of his pipe and see the gentle glow of the coal within. It was his habit to keep his tobacco-pouch strung about his neck and outside of his fur coat, so that he never had to un button to reach it. Now it laid on the robe which en- veloped him, it's long cord hanging loosely about his neck.
 On his journeys, having no one else l to talk to, Torson usually conversed l with his pipe, and this night proved no exception to the rule. The mail carrier told the pipe all the inner sev crets of his soul, he whispered of am- bitions long since dead, he chatted of i his well-beloved children, he said fond i words of his wife, he related past New Years experiences, he wished he we're boy again and he was thanful that ] he was a man. He expressed wonder l over the failure of the hay crop in i the early fall and was delighted that he had lost none of his cattle. He spoke contemptnously of the govern ment for the small pay if gave it's serv- 1 ants and he was delighted that his horses were sure-footed.
 The pipe listened. To Torson's mind it was better than a woman be- cause it never talked back. The smoke wreaths curled up from 1t and float ed back of the sledge in white rings. l A delicate aroma was left on the air by which if the mail carrier had been followed quickly he might have been traced from Cub Creek to Blue I Duck.
 The ponies kept their even pace and the night worked it's way on. Hill slopes, buffalo wallows, frozen water courses, ranges, all were passed, and still Torson smoked and dreamed. Perhaps it was ten o'clock, and maybe it was midnight, but Torson did not care. His ponies were doing their best Sooner or later the lights of Blue Duck would come in sight. It was good to think of Blue Duck. be- cause the town meant his own bed for him and nights rest under his own roof.
 Just then the ponies suddenly swerved at the bottom of deep wallow, and then sat down on their launches as if some one had grabbed them by the bridle and thrust them back. On the crest of the east bank of the wallow stood a man, in his hands rife and by him two horses and sledge. They came up so suddenly before the eyes of Torson's ponies, that they seemed to have risen from the depths of the snow. The rife was pointed at Tor sons breast and rough voice told him to keep himself and his ponies still. Then the voice said:
 ssThrow out the mail. Torson.''
 Torson chung to his pipe. The smoke still curled from it's bowl. He was thinking of great many things, but he made no move to reach the mail in the bottom of the sledge Again the voice ordered him to throw it out and again the smoke curled from the pipe. That second whif gave Torson new courage, new in. spiration as to what he should do
 He had been stupid for moment
 but now he was awake. Still holding the pipe between his lips he uttered g hoarse growl and the ponies under. stood They knew that Torson never
 spoke as other men, because his pipe
 was always between his lips. They leaped forward, and with dash were
 by the highwayman. The rifle spoke
 just as they sprang, and Torson felt over his heart stinging, sickening blow, but he bravely held his pipe
 and the reins and in very short
 time was out of the reach of his as
 sailant.
 Later in Blue Duck Torson took his ,, tobacco pouch from his neck, anc !, , found that the bullet from the high wayman's rife had gone through il . and the tobacco, also into his heavy :, coat and through his flannel. but hac
 not broken the skin. Just above his heart there was little blue mark
 Torson shook himself, filled his pipe and smoked gain.-Chicago Record
 Herald.