The Kinsley graphic. [volume] (Kinsley, Kan.) 1890-1940, 1902-09-05

had hung the instrument under the
gun and saber and was about to
leave, one of the strings gave forth
a long-drawn note, sad and sweet.
Whalen started and involuntarify
dropped a hand to the butt Of his
gun.
"That oughtn't to brighten you,
Mister Whalen," laughed Rosa Deane,
times in the night it wakens me up.
It's just the tightness of the strings
makes it so and changes in the
weather. Sometimes I like to think
it's talking perhaps to my brothers
and mother and perhaps without us
seeing them they just passed their
hands over the strings"
II don't like spooks, Miss Rosy"
rejoined Whalen, shifting uneasily on
his feet. 81 don't like things can't
see. Tbet inster'ment is sure human.
Hear it?"
Again note, wierd, rising and fall
ing. Rosa Deane could not reassure
Whalen as to the cause for this. He
rode away, shaking his head and
much disturbed. She told her father
of the incident that night and he
said that Whalen had been in nerv-
Gus mood for week or more.
rumor was about that a half-breed
Mexican from the Rio was on the
range looking for him and trouble
was expected. The half-breed's
brother had been killed at Laredo by
Whalen and the latter had been
trailed to the north.
.'There'll be killing, sure" said
Deane, "when they come together, and
1 guess Whalen will have the best of
it. He's out looking for the Mexican
now; he won't rest until the matter is
settled. I suppose Whalen thought
the guitar was giving him kind of
warning. The cow men are supersti-
tious."
A day or two later Whalen came
back to the ranchhouse and took his
old seat in the doorway, with the gui-
tar.
'Miss Rosy" said he, "Fm gettin'
kind a tired movin' round without
rope on me. I'm jest hankerin' to be
tied. I amt done nothin' ever what
I war 'shamed of, cen ter KILN the
greaser. l never hurt woman, ner
a kid, ner stole nothin', ner war ornery
with boss. never hurt man what
war mindin' his own ranch. I hev
money, an like yer gait. I'll be sure
good to yer if you wants me, Rosy"
And that settled it, for Rosa Deane
had made up her own mind long be-
fore that she loved Whalen, loved his.
music, his daring on the range, his
courage. She gave him a quick an
swer:
'I'r take you if you cut out the liq-
uor, except when you're with me. You
can drink at home, not away"
The cow man stayed to supper; he
won the approval of Mr.. Deane to the
marriage; he sat out under the stars
and the guitar gave forth such music
as had never come from it's strings be.
fore. Rosa and Whalen walked down
the trail, and he said to her:
"Sure, Rosy, what holds a man level
is a woman. If he won't lie and means
to tote far it only needs a woman to
/. do the rest. I love you, Rosy, same as
1 loves my hoss."
The girl of the prairies, the western
girl, put both her arms about his neck
and gave him hug and kiss for his
words. She was satisfied.
The two were back to the door of
the ranchhouse. Whalen's horse
stood there saddled for the ride home.
the guitar hung in its familiar place.
The cow mans lank form was outlined
against the night as the light from
the house door shone on him. Over
on the trail, crawling like an Indian.
came the Mexican half-breed. He had
journeyed far for such a moment as
this. The call of the blood of his
brother for vengeance tingled his ears.
He raised himself ever so little, his
gun covered Whalen. He fired once,
twice. Zone bullet sped through the
cav mans body. The other went wild,
passed through the open door, and
struck the old guitar. Again the long
drawn note of WEAKNESS and death,
the minor of life. Then the cry of q
woman.-Chicago Record Herald.