, 1902-01-31
Out Of the Wreck.
BY EDGAR wELToN COOLEY.

BY EDGAR WELTON COOLEY.
Copyright, 1901. by Daily Story Pub. Coz
Valentine leaned back In his chair.
showed his hands into his trousers
pockets and contemplated, with a sud
denly awakened s~avageness. the unfin-
ished letter before him.
Again and again he read the care
fully written lines, the frown on his
face deepening with each perusal. One
sentence particularly d~ispleased him.
Looking back with a judgment So
bered by the intervening three years"
this sentence ran, Il ree'ize that my
impetuosity misconstrued your display
Of Just indignation at my ~unfounded
charge of duplicity, and that my tenn
per. always too hasty, forced my lying
lips to utter those foolish and heart
less words Of farewell-words l would
give my soul. almost, to recall"
For the twentieth time Valentine
read that sentence over. Then he
drew the point OF his stubby pencil
through the words and jumped to his
feet. Fol many moments he paced the
floor Of his cabin. his eyes cast down.
his lips compressed. his hands in his
pockets.
And finally he paused at the table
fully. Then he laid his broad. brown
hand upon the sheet. and hesitated.
looking out the door at the gathering
dusk and thinking. thinking, thinking.
Suddenly his hand closed angrily
upon the paper. crumpling. crushing
1t between his fingers. Silently he
scowled at the wall, the letter clutched
ter in his cold, gray eyes. Then the
paper dropped to the floor, and walk
ing to the door. the man gazed medi-
tatively across the plain.
And after awhile he CROPPED his way
back into his cabin until he came to
the table. Then he struck q match
and searched upon the floor until he
ing 1t up by a corner, he touched the
burning match to it and held it be-
tween his fingers until the flame al
most licked his hand; then he dropped
1t and watched 1t burn-watched it.
until it was all consumed.
"Never!" he cried aloud, again
pacing the cabin floor. mo. by HI!
I'll never write her. I'll die right here
before I'll let her hear from me again.
I'll die and rot-rot like a dead coy
ote in a gulch.
What II 1t is lonely here in this
id country; what II I do 60 loco
who In HI cares? She? Ha! ha!
Why, she-she'd laugh II she knew I
was as crazy as a thirst-maddened
bronco-she'd laugh and Snake her
yellow curls and go dancing away with
some of those Rock Lick fellows.
Il loved her-God knows l loved her.
Who wouldn't love her? Who doesn't
love the sunshine and the blue sky
and the wild birds? Everybody loves
those things, and she is all of them
together. Nina is-all Of them; the
sunshine and the blue sky and the
wild birds. But she's a firt. and
and-d-n her!
Write to her? write to her? Ha!
ha! No! No. I say. I'll go out there
on the prairie and let the id coy
otes gnaw ut my worthless old carcass
before Ill write to her. I told her
when I left that l would never let her
know where I was. and l won't-so
help me God, I won't. I'll stay right
here In this God-forsaken country and
turn into a dog-eating Indian before
I'll write to her. I hate her-God,
how I hate her!-and l never want to
see her again-never!"
He gritted his teeth and clinched his
hsts In his rage and his slow pacing
increased to a savage stride, and sud-
denly he took his hat from a peg and
dashed out into the night.
When the two red-eyed engines came
together on the curve, awful was the
crash. For miles around the impact
shook the earth like the rumbling of
= volcano. and the cattlemen, awak-
ened, dashed out Of their cabins into
the night, their nerves tingling with
. nameless fear.
Coyotes, dashing from their hiding
places, paused a moment in wonder,
and with paws uplifted, gazed at the
awful scepe. then turned and ran, af-