The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1902-02-26

tremble as it iioated up to Mcguire
''she followed me here, and now--well,
! reckon you'll give her a chance to
get up there safe"
Mcguire nodded grimly. He knew
what those words meant. Wolfe
meant to die lighting. There would be
no surrender. The men of the posse
kept sharp eye on the Mexicans, who
now seemed too stunned even to pick
up their firearms. Mcguire kept his
gun trained on Wolfe as the latter
stood moment In earnest conyersa-
ton with Conehita. He saw something
white slipped into her hands and scent
ell treachery. but as she pushed the
packet into the bosom of her gown lie
saw that 1t was merely a bundle of
papers or letters.
Without looking at his companions
and with Maguire's gun still aimed at
his heart, Wolfe led Conchita to the
narrow goat path. She took half u
dozen steps, then paused, turned and
stretched out her arms. Eight deputies
imperlled their lives by closing their
| eyes.
Conchita sprang up the path and
| without looking back dashed into the
underground on the summit and dis
appeared. A second later there floated
| up TO Mcguire Randall Wolfe's taunt-
| Ing laugh. lie swung round on the
cringlng Mexlcans.
Flight. you cowardsw he cried and
aimed at Mcguire. The fusillade was
on.
The next day CHASTITY quiet hung
| over Cimarron. The coroner had rid
den to the Devils caldron, and four
bullet riddlcd bodies lay In the towns
small undertaking establishment. The
armed guards still patrolled the town.
The members OF the sheriff's posse had
been spirited away to Denver. Pueblo
or Canon City. A dozen reporters from
city dnilies were on the scene. There
was talk of Mexican uprising.
a newspaper man who had been
talking with the postmaster suddenly
struck off In the direction of the river
and the cabin among the willows. He
was on the trail of story, the true
story Of Randall Wolfe. Conchita met
him at the door with eyes more wistful
than ever and pathetic droop about
her mouth, But that mouth took on u
determined curve as the reporter talk.
ed. She shook her head.
But" he persisted, did Wolfe never
tell you anything about his people In
the east? He got money from them
| IN A.> III
Still no answer. The newspaper man
tried another tack.
Hes left you nothing, | hear, and
1t isn't to be supposed that his people
will help YOU" He drew forth his
purse. Now, I'd be glad to help yor
out If you'll answer n few questions"
The Mexican woman rose and threw
open the door.
There Is nothing to tell-nothing."
The newspaper man shrugged hi
shoulders and walked out into the sun
, light. He knew the woman lied. Sh
: watched him through the yellowln
7 willows. Then she closed her door an
. crossed to the fireplace. From he
a ihlstoTfs stiifenfsaTs the photograph. or
Y woman with white hair. These 81
Q laid on the Goals and watched thel
burn. Then she sprang to her fe,
and tore from the wall picture of he
dead husband With hungry eyes sh
studied each crude line, then kissed til
photograph passionately and, with
sob. laid that too, on the greedy Goals
"Ah,' she sobbed as the flames licke,
and cured the blackened pasteboard
mia earn. have kept my world L
was ~. could do, and they shall nevel
knoww
Then, with her hands clasped about
her knees, she crouched weeping by
the dying embers.