The Press. (Stafford Springs, Conn.) 1883-1935, 1902-01-16

ALL" said Dubs in tone Of accusation.
s'Now he'll want his knife"
Sure enough, the Coyote That Bites
did shake his brown legs and arms
quite vigorously, but the last two big
swallows of mescal held him down.
So, after turning over and burying his
hatchetlike face in the sand, he lay
quiet again.
When he had thus turned over, was
brought into view the rifle, which had
been concealed by his dirty blanket.
Dubs eyed the weapon with covetous
eyes. He could not Withstand the temp
tation Of feeling it all over, standing
1t up on it's butt and trying to shoulder
II, but this last feat he could hardly
accomplish. Just what it was that
kept his fingers off the hammer and
trigger and prevented a sound that
would surely have brought the Coyote
to his feet with yell, am sure can
not tell, but Dubs played with that
fascinating weapon nearly an hour,
while Gay poured sand over the car
tridges, hiding nearly all of them from
view.
By this time the suns rays were on
the long slant, and the children were
| very hungry. By this time, too, the
Apache was growing restless, for the
mescal had nearly lost it's grip upon
him. A train laundering by, or, much
less, swift brushing against his
black foot, spider dropping on his
leg, or even big fly buzzing at his
ear-any Of these would have set his
demon force into play again.
But the children could not wait for
| such demonstrations as these, though
why it did not occur to Dubs that the
| Coyotes ear needed tickling with a
| grease wood twig the Lord only knows.
| The wind was up, and the wires were
murmuring louder than ever. The wee
ones had sported in the black shadows
long enough-had played with the fangs
| of the deadly serpent until they were
| tired and their stomachs We're empty.
| So they set off on trot for home.
| Just as they turned. the bend and
came in sight of the low roof Of the
| station dust deviP' swept by the
rocks where lay the Coyote That Bites.
| He jumped to his feet. grasped his
| empty sheath, gave a mad WhoOp and
| started about in feverish rage. There
| was his knife, half covered by the
sand, and there was his rifle. far from
| his side. Here was the cartridge belt
| empty, and all about him in the sand
were countless little footprints.
A bewildered look stole over Lis face,
| but it passed away when his eyes rest
ed on the empty demijohn. The eX-
| preston that replaced it was one of de
moniacal ferocity, and the lust of
slaughter lay heavily upon him. But
| the cartridges-Where were they? He
saw Gays mound Of sand and, kicking
| it, gave a grunt of delight to see the
brazen capsules that were scattered
| right and left by his foot.
He picked them all UP, grunting over
each one. Filling the belt and grasping
| his rifle, he started off in the direction
| in which the small footprints led. Like
| bloodhound, lie chased along the
| track. His eyes scanned the plain at
| every turn, and his breath was hot and
| strong. But when he turned the big
curve and saw the station he knew that
| he was late-too late-and he gave a
| grunt of disgust and was off like the
wind over a side trail that led toward
| the sunset.
| In the low rooted station house the
| mother crooned to tired little Gay, ly-
ing so soft and limp in her arms. She
looked out over the desert, saw the sun
touching the tips of the solemn giant
cacti with purple dots, saw the prickly
pear shrubs holding their grotesque
arms above the great sweep of sand
that ran down to the low horizon and
felt the inspiration of the scene. as she
had often felt it before, for the desert
has a beauty that is all its own. She
| knew that ether women in the great
cities and in the cool, green valleys
might pity her in that desolate spot
but she felt that she needed not theiI
pity. Dubs came and leaned his head
against her arm where she sat, and lit
tie Gay nestled down with a tired sigh
Yes, there was much. she thought, for
| which to be thankful.
| And in truth there was.