The Tupelo journal., 1903-11-06
At Lone
Elm Ranch
By Thomas p. Montfort
Copyright, 1908, by Daily Story Pub. Col

OA14N SOFNAftD, owner Oh Lone Eli
u ranch, was young, healthy, wealth,
n prosperous. To all outward ap'
pearances he should have been one Of
the %happiest of men. He was, how.
ever, anything but that.
c at his home in the east he had
met Mary Morgan and fallen in love
with her, and, though o a word had
passed between them on the subject
ne was confident that she understood
MS feelings and reciprocated them
unde ordinary circumstances there
should have been nothing distressing
IN this; but, unfortunately, the cir.
cumstances were not ordinary.
Mary was the wife OF another man
While a person may not be able tC
govern his feelings he may, if he is
strong enough, govern his conduct
This was John Conard's view, and he
acted accordingly. When he found
that he loved where he had no right
to love he came out west and buried
himself away from the world. He fel!
that it would be best for them both
that he and Mary should never meet
again and that neither should know
anything of the other. Perhaps in time
they might learn to forget. &
One day, five years after Conard
came west, he rode slowly across the
broad brown plain. He was thinking,
with his head bent, and his thoughts
were of Mary. He thought of her
beauty, her loneliness of character and
her sweet disposition; and of her hard
grinding life with a cruel, drunken
husband. With all his heart he wished
that he might have the right to pro-
tect and shield her, and devote his life
to making her happy.
But it can never be-" he told him
self. Never now"
Before Conard there was an aban-
doned claim" with a little cabin on
it. The cabin had long been vacant,
but now, when he raised his head, he
saw that it was occupied. He fell at
once to wondering what kind of peo-
pie the newcomers were, and think
ing how pleasant it would be to have
them for neighbors if they were nice.
Presently a woman came out into
the yard and, placing one hand on the
fence, stood looking pensively away to
the east, her face in full view. Conard
in doubt and amazement. For a mo-
ment an electric shock numbed him,
then the blood rushed unanimously
and a great wave of joy swept ove
him.
MY Cod" he cried, "it's Nary"
He started forward and just then
she turned and saw him. Invol-
UNFAIRLY she stretched her hands out
toward him and gave a little, glad cry
which he did not hear. Ii he had ever
had a doubt of her love for him he
had it nc longer.
But suddenly there came a shock
that sent his blood cold. A man in
the cabin had heard her cry and had
come out to her and put his arm about
her protectingly. Conard saw and
stopped short. For a little while his
face vas dark with anger, then it
grew white with pain.
Her husband" he murmured. 81
had forgotten"
He whirled his horse about and
rode hastily away. The man called
after him and Mary tainted. but, all
unmindful of these things, he went on,
never stopping and never looking
back.
=. At the ranch he dismounted and
went in. There was no one there ex-
cept the cook, a dissipated wretch
whom Conard had taken in and pulled
through a spell of fever. Who this
cook was, and where he hailed from,
no one knew. He had come to the
ranch u%nlabeled, and the cowboys had
stamped the word "Chucky" ON him
for a name and let it go at that.
Conard hastily gathered a few things
in a travelling bag and then wrote a
note of instructions to his foreman.
He had taken up the bag and turned
toward the door when the cook came
in from the kitchen and asked for a
moment of his time. Conard whirled
about and said shortly:
We'll what is it,"
81 see you are going away" the cook
replied. "Do you expect to be away
long?"
"Yess Perhaps forever. Why?"
Nothing. l only wanted to thank
you for all your kindness to me. l."
Conard turned away impatiently.
you must not bother to speak of
that" he said. "It was nothing, and
it is all right. 1 am in a hurry now.
for | must reach the station in time
for the train. Good-by." t
He hurried out, threw himself into
the saddle and dashed away toward
the little station which lay ten miles
distant.
There was more-very much more
the cook would have said, and it would
have been of great Importance to
Conard. 1t was something he had been
for a long time intending to say, but
he had delayed because he had found
it cruelty hard to speak.
Conard was scarcely a mile away
when a man came breathlessly to the
ranch from the opposite direction. II
was the man Conard had seen with his
arm about Mary. AS he came around
q corner of the building he stood face
to face with the cook. Both mer
started, then stared blankly at each
other.
"You!" the cook finally gasped
"You here?"
And the other merely repeated:
"You here?"