The suburban citizen., 1902-07-19

able beside her stalwart charioteer till
they had put McArdles four or five
miles behind them and the sandy road.
now lying along the dry bed of river.
wound between the jungles Of a brown
green timber that lined Its banks
There was not a house in sight. not a
sign of life, not a sound but the Groom
of the prairie wind in the trees and the
whirr of the wheels through the sand.
"Are there-Mr Washington" she
hesltated, trembling a little, "are there
any-er-Indians near hereT
"Yes, miss, there is one" and he
smiled grimly at her.
"You don't mean"
ayes, indeed; I'm an Indian, all right.
think I'm a good Indian. At any rate
I'm a Chickasaw."
"Oh," she murmured, glancing at his
well-ftting corduroys and the neat
blue flannel shirt that covered his
broad breast; why, thought all the
Indians"
Wore feathers and bows and ar
rowsT There was a hint Of sarcasm
on his handsome face as he said this,
and for a few miles they were both ST.
lent. Then a queer thing happened
He stopped his team, walked up de-
clivity that was SCARED by recent hoof
prints, scanned them earnestly, and,
coming back to the wagon, resumed
his drive. When they had reached
what seemed to the girl the loneliest
and most desolate part of the road the
big fellow beside her stopped his team,
laid down the lines and pulled out
big revolver, which he carefully laid
across his knees. Her heart was in
her mouth when he said very quietly;
"NIiss Mather, give me your watch
and those rings and whatever money
you have, quick His gray eyes
looked bright black as he glared at her.
your she murmured, and would
have said more, but he growled
Quick" looking back as if afraid
somebody would catch him at his ras'
cality. But the girl was too frightened
to speak. She gave him her little gold
watch, pulled the rings from her slen-
der fingers and handed him her purse.
He opened it and quickly counted the
money. There was $52 in it.
"You can keep the change" he said,
handing her back the pocBetbook and
calmly pocketing the rest Of the booty.
"And now" said he, ''on your life you
must promise not to tell Mar
shal Mather anything about what has
or may happen on this trip" He was
lingering his pistol.
"Only take me to him." she whis-
pered between white lips, "I'll swear
to say nothing"
"Then don't get scared" he said
more cheerfully, picking up the relns
and replacing his wicked looking gun.
In another minute they heard the
| clatter of horses hoofs behind them,
| and looking back saw two horsemen
with leveled Winchesters hard in their
| wake.
Hands up!" shouted the foremost, as
Washington stopped his team and got
out. Miss Mather, very much scared,
clamhered down into the sand and fol-
| lowed her drivers example, for that
worthy, coward like, seemed to be try
ing to touch the sky with his finger
tips. In jiny the robbers had found
the girls pocketbook, and, stranger
STILL her pocket. They took the 81
and change that her companion had
left her and cursed roundly that it was
no more. But whether frightened at
the sound of approaching wheels or
knowing that Boot Jack had nothing,
they then remounted their horses and
galloped into the dust toward Near
dies.
The tall Indian and his frightened
charge then jumped back into the
buggy and fairly raced toward Que
que, which they could now see like a
painted village outlined against the
reddening western sky.
VIII IN they had reached the last sand
hill that rose at the eastern entrance
to the scattering town the Indian dri'
yer stopped again. This time his re-
volver did not appear, but he pulled
out the little watch, her money and
her rings, and handing them back to
her looked laughingly in her astonished
blue eyes as he said almost tenderly;
"Take them, Miss Mather. l know
you thought I'd rob You, but l would
not" His fingers, yet clinging to her
watch chain, touched her hands and
fingered an instant as he resumed;
but you must not forget your promise,
you won't say q word to Mather?"
"No-oo? But Mr.. Boo-Washington," T."
she blushed at her mean suspicion OF
him, seeing now that he had SHIELD her
up" to save her little property from the
highwaymen, but why didn't those
hateful robbers rob you?"
He was looking far ahead in the
gathering darkness as he answered
with question:
"You will not say word to Marshal
Mather?"
mot a word, upon my honor" and
she wondered what he would say next.
But he said nothing at all.-John H,
Raftery, in Chicago Record-Herald.