The Aberdeen Democrat. (Aberdeen, South Dakota) 1???-1909, 1903-11-13

must leave you for a time; my seryant
tells me that a peon awaits me at
the church, having walked far over the
hills to give his child Christian burial
Carried it here himself?" queried
the Americana, fastidiously.
Yes. Oh, yes, They bring their
dead to me on rough litters or laid in
an open box, but they always bring
them. l must leave you, Senior Mars
den; command my servant"
Marsden watched him trudging
sturdily to the church, saw the
peon arise with weary but reverent
gesture, and take up the little paste
board box in one hand.
Then, because his shoulder still
ached from the attentions of Senior
Gonzales, he rubbed it resentfully and
rolled a cigarette VIII herewith to console
I himself.
Poor little beggar," he muttered, Nit
can't be much bigger than a kitten, if
it goes in that box. What a queer,
CHASTITY performance it is, this taking
your own dead in your arms and carry
ing them miles for burial, only to have
some vandal dig them up in a few
months if you don't pay your grave
rent. They have queer practices here
in Jul new possessions, buE l suppose
the poor devils think they are happy.
l might step owe and see it through.
Hang that brute, but I am soTei"
He wandered languidly over, slipping
quietly in the church door hnd stand
iy,p y,,I- -, {1n cl.I~-, 1i.nl L..
trusion might not be observed and re-
sented by the poor wretch in front.
From where the American stood ne
could see the lidless ~pasteboard box
as it lay before the altar, and the tiny
occupant with his crossed hands and
the slowly willing flowers in his
fingers. The light of the candles paled
before a slender shaft of sunshine,
striking down from a window and
cleaning across the poems face when
ever ne raised his head. Marsden's
eyes wandered slowly from peon to
child, from child to priest, and back
again TO the man who had carried his
son over the hills in the early morn
ing, to give him the last rites Of his
church. Then he slipped out again,
as quietly rs he had entered, and was
leaning over the rough wall of the
cemetery when the peon came out.
They had a queer fascination for
him, these cemeteries of Spanish
America. He frowned musingly as his
eyes wandered to the corners of the
enclosure. where lay the bones of the
eVicted dead, dug coolly from their
graves and flung here as refuse, be-
cause their grave rental was, past due.
Savage CUSTOM" Marsden muttered.
and forgot the .dishonored bones as the
peon came again into his line of
vision. He limped slightly, and
stopped as though years of toll had
bent and stiffened him, as he went
toward the little stone building at the
end of the cemetery, scarcely to be
termed a receiving vault, being barren
of everything save four walls and a
roof, and in which the dead were thrust
until there were enough of them to
bury ut once.
When he came out, leaving the
fower-wreathed box behind him, the
American barred his path, staring a.
him curiously.
Good morning, my friend. It oc-
cur to me that you have considerable
nerve"
Like a flash the weary stoop van
ished, and the limping peon was a tall
half-breed with scowling brow, erect
and muscular.
"Senor Americano!" he responded,
jauntily, and squared his shoulders
in cool defiance, but the CLEAN in his
eyes was not pleasant as he took in
the probable chances of escape or cap
ture. A group of men were coming
down the road; the padre was just
leaving the church door.
why did you do it?p Marsden
asked, steadily. II
why not, senior? Is the son of a
brigand to be thrown out on the hill
side, like a dog?"
He shrugged mis- shoulders insoIent-
ly, but his narrowing eyes were meas
uring the distance between himself
and the Americana, and again to the
group of men who walked between him
and the hills.
you were fortunate to escape Sc,
nor. Where Pedro Gonzales strikes he
also kills, that no man may point to
him and say, That a is Pedro Con-
zales, the robber.'"
The Americana gave no attention.
He was rubbing his shoulder thought
fully, and looking beyond at the little
stone house of the dead. The woman's
voice was insistently in his ears. He
guessed now for what she had been
pleading. and what had lain on the
bed in the dark corner. He turned his
gaze back to the half-breed as though
he were studying some curious
PSYCHOLOGICAL phenomenon.
II think you'd better be going" he
suggested, casually, a grim smile pull
Ing at the of his mouth. eThe
climate of the valley is not healthy
for persons accustomed to dryer air,
especially robbers. II we should mes
in town, / have a poor memory fol
faces, you know, but if ] eyer see 8
again in the hills, / shall probably try
to shoot you"
A look of uncomprehending wonder
spread over the half-breedis face, but
d flashing smile of intelligence fol-